still marinating...
in a difficult story, in nimble sentences, in good olive oil, in the moonlight
Hi-Hi,
My pal and I are at a self-made writing retreat near Friday Harbor. I’m here to make headway into the memoir I’m writing about caring for my mother who struggles with dementia, and about my care-adjacent childhood. I’ve written a good bit about the mother-woes over at RIGHT TO FOLLY, so if horror and hilarity are your jam, check the link.
I’m marinating in all of it, the past and the present. In trying to get the story on the page.
In perfectly meta-fashion, there’ve been two crises with my mother since I’ve arrived. First she had her own odyssey, wandering away from her assisted living and vanishing for six hours. (Believe me there will be a story coming, but for now she is fine.) Followed swiftly by a black hole of medication troubles over at the Amazon Pharmacy which kept me in phone tree hell. Here I am trying to write about everything and I cannot keep up with everything IRL. As Nora Ephron said:
Everything is copy.
Meanwhile, for you I have a book, some writing advice, and a delicious and easy recipe, all below.
Onward!
read:
I’ve just begun reading Sigrid Nunez’s new collection of stories, IT WILL COME BACK TO YOU.
There are many reasons to select a book. Why did I choose this one?
The cover is gorgeous! Not going to lie, I wish I’d designed it!
I thoroughly enjoyed her novel, THE FRIEND, and I also delighted in the film!
Sigrid Nunez is smart and mysterious with chic short hair and I’m in awe of her.
I had a glass of very good wine with her agent once and I enjoyed her company.
The review in the NYTs was a gushing delight. Dwight Garner says, “Her headlights are on, even in midday.”
Finally, her sentences. They are nimble and sly and make you sit up a little straighter. Like a flavor added to a cake that you can’t quite put your finger on but you know you like just this hint of it. (Looking at you cloves in my carrot cake.)
Nunez is not afraid to mistrust our heavy lean on political correctness. She seems to be suggesting we’ve thrown the language-baby out with the bathwater. Consider please this description from a teenage girl about the boy upon whom she heavily crushes, from the story Philosophers:
Ace came from what used to be called, hushedly, a bad home, one of those nice, simple descriptions — like nervous breakdown, or retarded — which society was about to decide shouldn’t be used anymore, even though they expressed perfectly what they meant.
The stories leave me with unanswerable questions. Life (and stories) aren’t meant to be solved. When I’m not certain what I’m meant to take away at the end of the story, I think perhaps that’s the takeaway. Life is a slippery mystery. If we accept not knowing we cut rumination off at the knees. We can say to ourselves, I might never know and I can still have a fine day. I will not solve life. I will only solve the next hour. Make tea. Call a friend. Take a walk.
🥳 If discussing books with sharp and lively readers over Zoom sounds like your kind of Sunday morning — upgrade to paid and grab a seat.
Mentor Book Group— in which we read memoirs, personal growth books, fiction and discuss what we might like to adopt in our own “work-in-progress” lives. THINGS I DON’T WANT TO KNOW, by Deborah Levy will be our August book, meeting on 30 August at 9a pacific time. Love to have you join us.
The r.w.e. book group selection for August is THE IRISH GOODBYE, by Beth Ann Fennelly. We will meet 16 August at 9a pacific time on zoom. And Beth Ann Fennelly will join us! Want to snag a seat?
I’d love to get to know you better:
write:
Have you read the article “The Night My Marriage Fell Apart”? Yes, the title is compelling, as is the graphic of a man slumped in a chair in the dark, the glow of a laptop screen illuminating his face. It’s good click bait, and click I did.
The essay is about a failing marriage, an unfaithful wife, the betrayal of a best friend, the loneliness of knowing you failed people you love just as much as they failed you. The story is detailed and long… the man, both perpetrator and victim in his downfall, comes through the events, and about a year after, he’s unpacking his life in his therapist’s office, as one does, when the therapist asks him, “Why do you do what you do?” (I’ve truncated this passage from the article for ease and swiftness.)
“When you’re working, when you’re writing, what’s in your mind?”
That was a stupid question. My work was in my mind. I worked because I needed to work, because I needed money to buy things, and writing was the easiest way I could imagine making a living. If there was something other than writing that would pay me more and allow me to continue living without alarm clocks, I would do that instead.
“That’s not true,” Gary said. “You don’t just do it for money.”
“I kind of do, actually.”
Gary shook his head. “I don’t believe you,” he said.
I stopped again, and Gary didn’t try to fill the void—he was good at silence… He waited.
“Hate,” I said.
I had never really thought about it, but everything I did in my life, everything I valued, was a competition. Once, [as a teenager] I had copied out books because I loved words so much. The next thing I knew, I saw words as weapons.
“I’ll show you,” I said to Gary. “That’s what I think when I write.”
“Do you see what’s happening here?” he said. “Every motivation you’ve talked about is negative. It’s either fear or it’s anger.”
“It’s worked,” I said.
“Has it, though?” Gary asked.
“It did until it didn’t, I guess.”
“So why don’t we try to find you a different, more positive source of motivation? Doesn’t that sound better? Doesn’t that sound healthier?”
Wow! When he got to the ‘hate’ line, I reared back. To write with a vindictive heart? I’d rather not write.
Which brings me to the thing I really want to share with you. Many years ago I heard Luis Alberto Urrea deliver the keynote address at Tin House Writing Conference, Hymns to the Broken, A Manifesto, which made me fall forward! He completely lit a fire in me. I believe the fire still burns which is making it terribly difficult to write this memoir I’m facing down. I don’t feel hate toward my mother, no, but I feel disappointment, frustration, sorrow, anger. It’s a crappy place from which to write. It’s a crappy place to wade through as I remember and consider the distant and recent past, and struggle to get words on the page.
I have a sign at my desk which says, “She did the best she could. You did the best you could. We all are doing the best we can.”
Urrea said:
Out of the darkness of my pain, the moon rose.
So, what problem of yours am I solving? Listen to Urrea here. And keep this in mind when you find yourself mired in the experiences you are putting down, whether memoir or fiction:
Shame is the enemy. Shame keeps us silent. Shame keeps us invisible. Shame gives power to the cowboys in the trucks.
Write your heavy bag of human shadow. Belong to the nation of story, knock down YUGE walls and build bridges.
Make your story like food born from loving hands, a different kind of nourishment
Why do we write? To shout our shame.
Why do we write? To enter our house justified.
Why do we write? To make a person feel known.We don’t write to inflict injury, to escape. We are taught shame. Reteach them their loveliness.
My wish for you is affirming and rending and understanding at your writing desk.
“You have to be telling people, essentially, I love you, or you have no basis for your art.”
~ Etheridge Night
…
Here’s a PDF of my notes from the talk.
…
Tell me, please, why do you write?
eat:
What is top of mind for me this summer? Hosting pals around the table. Guesting so you’ll be invited back. This recipe seals the deal for guest and host. Who wouldn’t love to be served this beautiful marinated goat cheese alongside crackers and radishes, perhaps with sparking wine.
Any host would love to receive this bright jewelbox as a small thank you from a dinner guest.
Easy and front loaded with delight. Marinated goat cheese is extra wonderful if you’ve snagged a sweet wide-mouthed glass jar. The recipe is incredibly flexible. I’ve used thyme, parsley, even a snip of rosemary. Pink peppercorns add a bit of color, also a strip of lemon zest for color and zing. I’ve been known to scatter in a smidge of this spice blend, which I’m wild about. And, the next time I make it, I’m going to include a few re-plumped dried cherries in the marinade.
2 (6-ounce) creamy goat cheese buttons or a small log you can cut into disks. I like this.
kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
minced fresh dill
julienned fresh basil leaves
crushed red pepper flakes
good virgin olive oil, enough to cover the cheese
baguette or crackers, for serving
radishes for serving
Find a small, wide-mouth canning jar (3 1/2 inches in diameter by 4 inches high), just large enough to hold the two goat cheeses on top of each other with a little room to spare. Cut each cheese in half around the equator, making 2 rounds from each. (A piece of dental floss is the best way.)
Place half of the first disk flat in the jar, sprinkle with salt and pepper, then with a bit of dill, basil, and a few red pepper flakes, and drizzle with olive oil. Place another disk of cheese on top and repeat the seasonings, herbs, and oil. Continue with the remaining cheese disks, piling one on top of the other with oil and seasonings in between. When all the disks are stacked and seasoned, drizzle a final 1 tablespoon of olive oil to cover the cheese. Place the lid, set aside the cheese at room temperature for one hour or refrigerate. I have kept mine for a week.
Serve at room temperature with bread or crackers for people to dig in with a butter knife to help themselves. I have also scooped some out to put in scrambled eggs.
Is now the time for you to hop over to a paid subscription and offer a kind thank you?
I’d love to welcome you into the fold! You get book groups, and the Sunday Jewels Just for You.
If you’re not yet ready to become paid subscriber and you wish to send a little love my way:
Stanley is home with pals. So I offer you this strange bird in a helmet:
Thanks for being here with me.
Tell your people you love them, and take care of your skin!
PS:
In case you missed it, here are a couple recent posts:
Every post of yours is a gem. 🩷
I write to connect with myself and with others. Shameless promotion here but consider A Dream Life: A Memoir for your memoir book group. It won’t disappoint.