the thrill of being a little afraid
write what scares you and then huddle around a comfy risotto
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Onward…
Hi Hi!
Des bonbons ou un sort!
That was the cry on Halloween here in Aix en Provence where we spent a delightful evening bundled in scarves and sweaters, parked at a cafe table in the square with our cornet of roasted chestnuts, a glass of red wine, and a parade of costumed children. We were treated to goblins, witches, monsters, spiders, zombies, and a copious amount of blood dripping from faux gashes, eyeballs, sliced necks, and smeared on clothes. Shopkeepers, cafe servers, and parents—tout le monde—was delighted!
What was remarkable to me, there were no butterflies nor ponies, no unicorns, princesses, dogs nor dolphins… none of the whimsy that I see at my door in Portland.
It got me thinking about the thrill of being afraid, that is, safely afraid.
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In France, there are nearly zero school shootings. A quick search reveals one in 2017 and another in 2025 with a total of four fatalities. France also has minimal gun violence and very strict gun laws.
Here in Aix, I comfortably walk alone at night down dark streets—which I would not do at home. Not that there is a ton of gun violence in Portland, but I experience fear knowing that someone (let’s be honest, generally a man) walking near me at night could be armed.
What does this have to do with Halloween costumes? I’m not certain. I’m not a social scientist, but I was thinking it’s a lot more fun to be faux-afraid with gruesome costumes than to be truly fearful that you might have an “active shooter” at your school. It’s more fun to walk around with fake knives protruding from your head, and plenty of dripping blood, than to worry about being harmed at the grocery store, the DMV, or a concert, as sometimes happens with mass shootings in the United States.
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When I remarked upon this to my French teacher she said that French children don’t need the whimsy costumes because they aren’t naive. (Oh la, the French self-report such sophistication!) “Les enfants adore le sang!”
But I think they love the blood and gore because it isn’t real. I’m not sure American children are naive, they just have the simmering threat of violence in their lives. What a delight to be a butterfly.
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Back at our table in the square on Halloween, my husband insisted my theory was flawed. “Look,” he pointed to two tween girls dressed as cheerleaders. “See, they’re not scary.” Yet when the girls turned around, they both had pretend bloody gashes over their hearts.
A friend and I had a conversation about my theory as well. “I think what it comes to,” she said, “we’re all afraid of dying or of losing someone we love.” Bien sur.
Perhaps the French are taking control of the narrative. Dying for one night and then coming back to life the next morning, that’s the trick! And the treat? Café crème, une tartine, et jus d’orange on the breakfast table.
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My mother’s favorite Halloween costume? She dressed as a voting booth when she was eight and Truman was running. Mine? I was a pilgrim and I loved the buckles on my shoes. Our girl was a Teddy Bear Princess and our son Zorro, which I think (hope) they both adored.
What was your fav costume as a child or as an adult?
read:
Friends! Heather Aimee O’Neill will be joining our book group on November 16
to talk about her novel, THE IRISH GOODBYE. I can’t wait to discuss the book with you all, and there are so many things I want to ask Heather. (ICYM: Here’s Heather on the Today Show)
The structure of the book. She writes fairly short chapters with roving POV between the three sisters. And she controls the timeline with lengthy flashbacks to important family history.
Every chapter ends with a bit of a cliff hanger, propelling us forward.
Heather fearlessly addresses many social issues..abortion, suicide, sexuality, women’s longing for selfhood, dementia, parenting, and yet the book does not feel overburdened. How did she pull off that hat-trick?
Though I did not grow up in a big family, nor did I experience the hardships that haunt this family, there were many times I experienced a little gasp at the ‘truth bombs’ Heather let fly. For example:
She could almost imagine a future where coming home didn’t make her feel so unbearably lonely.
Every important decision she’d ever made in her life and been in the service of taking care of her family.
It still sometimes amazed her that she was the one who had the power to make other people, her own children, feel that safe.
Hormones…they don’t lie.
I didn’t realize how much I liked my life until this happened.
I’m just so tired of blaming everything on the past.
Even without context, these lines land.
The novel is a perfect read just now, when we’re facing big holiday gatherings with the people we love most and perhaps the very same people who challenge us the most.
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Please do upgrade your subscription to participate in our conversation. As a gift for a yearlong subscription, I’ll send Heather’s book to three lucky new subscribers. Maybe one of them will be you!
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write:
Speaking of being scared….does your writing frighten you?
A reader recently reached out to let me know how much an essay I wrote meant to her. Honestly, I’d forgotten I’d written it. When I did a search to reread, I felt a little shiver, a little scared. This essay hit so close for me. It got me thinking about fear and honesty.
Are you writing about things that frighten you? (This feels like another good question for Heather!) Whether writing fiction or memoir, are you hitting the tender spots:
the time you hurt someone’s feelings
your darkest moment
feeling lonely in the midst of people you love
betrayal
saying the unthinkable aloud
I think when we write about all of these things we come closer to our readers’ hearts. I know I read to find myself, to understand myself in a narrative. How lucky, when characters mess up, to see that we are all human. We all fuck up. We harm and we are harmed. And then we make art.
Please do check this beautiful essay as well, by my friend
. She writes about body shaming in the midst of deep grief. thank you for publishing!
Bon Courage!
eat:
The comfort of chestnut risotto:
Chestnut Risotto
1 c thinly sliced celery plus leaves (from 3 large stalks)
¼ c white wine vinegar
Pinch of sugar
Coarse kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 lb cremini mushrooms
1 red onion
Extra-virgin olive oil
2 shallots, finely chopped
2 celery stalks, finely chopped
1.5 c roasted and peeled chestnuts, coarsely chopped (you can buy chestnuts at the market and roast in a
half an apple, peeled and diced, something slightly tart
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1.5 c arborio rice
¼ c cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces
3 oz (3/4 c) grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
chopped fresh parsley
Prepare the pickled celery: Place the celery in a small bowl. Add vinegar and sugar, season with ½ t salt and a few grinds of pepper. Stir to combine. Cover the mixture and place it in the refrigerator until ready to serve.
Prepare the roasted vegetable toppings: Position a rack in the center of the oven and another below it. Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Using a damp paper towel, wipe the mushrooms clean. Pluck the stems off the caps and transfer the stems to a large pot. Thinly slice the mushroom caps and place in a large bowl. Drizzle enough olive oil (2 to 3 T) to generously coat the sliced mushrooms; season with salt and pepper. Toss to combine and place on large sheet pan in a single layer.
Peel, halve, and thinly slice the red onion. Transfer the onion peels and any trimmings to the pot with the mushroom stems. Drop the sliced onions in the empty bowl, drizzle with olive oil (about 1-2 T) to coat, season with salt and pepper, and toss to combine. Place on another sheet pan in a single layer. (Save the bowl without washing it.)
Place the onions and the mushrooms in the preheated oven. Roast until deeply golden brown at the edges, stirring them halfway through, 20 to 30 minutes.
Make the broth. Fill the pot with 5 c cold tap water, season with generous amount of salt and pepper. Bring to a boil over high, then reduce to medium-low and simmer for 30 minutes. Strain into the reserved bowl, discard the vegetable scraps and transfer the stock back to the pot. Bring to a simmer and keep at a gentle simmer over low heat. Bring extra water to a boil in a kettle or saucepan.
Make the risotto: In a large Dutch oven, add enough olive oil to generously coat the bottom. Heat over medium. Add shallots, celery (NOT THE PICKLED CELERY) and chestnuts, season with salt and pepper, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are soft but not brown, 7 to 9 minutes. If the pot looks dry, add olive oil. Add the rice and stir continuously until each grain is coated in the fat and looks shiny and translucent at the edges, about 1 minute.
Pour in 1 c of the simmering stock and stir vigorously until the rice has absorbed all the liquid. Add another cup of stock and stir occasionally until the rice has absorbed that stock. Continue like this, adding a stock and stirring just enough to make sure the rice doesn’t stick to the bottom of the pot (every 3 to 5 minutes). Cooking until the rice grains are tender but maintain defined edges. If you run out of stock, use boiling water. This entire process should take about 20 to 25 minutes. Remove the pot from the heat and cover.
Add butter and cheese to the risotto and stir until fully incorporated. Serve the risotto immediately, with the roasted mushrooms and onions, the quick-pickled celery, and the parsley in separate bowls with serving spoons so guests can top their risotto to their heart’s content!
Do you have a favorite seasonal risotto? Do tell!
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As always, Stanley! He visited la coiffure ici à Aix!
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