The Perils of Working at a Library

So, I love my new job. Everyone who knows me already knows that because I haven't stopped saying how much I love it for the past 5 months. I get to work in our fabulous local library. It's like owning a bookstore (which I did for five years) only without the stress of paying the bills. Books all day. Books for miles (almost). So, so many books. And so, I have a stack of six hardcover novels plus two books on tape waiting for me. At least I resisted taking home a few magazines this weekend. Oh, and I borrowed the DVD of the HBO miniseries Olive Kitteridge. The problem with my new job is that I don't really have time to work there because of all the books I keep coming across that I want to read...

Last week I finished Miranda July's short story collection No One Belongs Here More Than You and this week I read B.J. Novak's One More Thing: Stories and Other Stories. I hadn't necessarily planned to read this on the heels of one another, but it turned out they fit together pretty well. Both collections are funny, sarcastic, irreverent, honest, and a little shocking. Both peel back the formalities of polite society and poke fun at the way we live and the things we value. Miranda July's stories made me squirm and think and then squirm more. B.J. Novak's stories made me laugh out loud in places. In fact, so overtaken was I that I read some of his stories out loud to my husband (which I never do).

Last night I started All the Light We Cannot See, which is a total departure and so far is enchanting and delightful.

I love my new job.

Birds of a Lesser Paradise

I was thrilled when I picked up Megan Mayhew Bergman's Birds of a Lesser Paradise and read and recognized the first story. It's been a while since I read "Housewifely Arts" and I can't even remember where I first read it (possibly Ploughshares?) but I loved it the first time I read it and I loved it even more the second time. And then, to have the pleasure of reading the rest of this collection, and a snowy day on which to read them...sheer delight.

These stories are full of characters for whom we root, even though we see the inevitable, and then we mourn a little, even though we know we've been told the truth. Megan Mayhew Berman shows us the natural world and the characters who inhabit it with unflinching honesty and excellent craftsmanship.
These are the kind of stories that make me want to keep writing stories.

Still Reading....

I'm writing slightly more these days (and by slightly, I mean very slightly) but I'm still reading more than I'm writing. This morning, I finished Jenny Offill's Dept. of Speculation. Slim, spare, poetic, engaging, sad, funny, heartfelt. The novel looks and feels like flash fiction segments. Each piece, alone and then together, creates a powerful whole. This is not a novel that weaves the reader a seamless story. But the joy is in the seams. The joy is in connecting, holding the threads, doing the work and then reaping the reward. This book does something.

Reading to Soothe the Writing Blahs

Since childhood, I have always used reading as a balm. Hungry, tired, angry, sad, scared, shy--whenever I was feeling something that could not be easily identified or remedied, I read. And I find that the habit of self-soothing with other worlds and other problems has not diminished now that I've reached adulthood.

I graduated on January 17 with by MFA. Yay, me. I really am excited and proud. And I say I'm happy to be free of packet deadlines and expectations. I can write whatever I want! Whenever I want! Which means I have been doing a whole lot of looking at Facebook.

And, I'm terrified.

So, I've been on a reading bender. I just finished Anthony Marra's A Constellation of Vital Phenomena. This book takes its readers across the world to Chechnya and across decades. I glimpsed a world I was not at all familiar with, through characters who were real, imperfect humans I couldn't help but root for. This story--so intricately woven--will take your breath away.

Up next: Garth Stein's new book A Sudden Light. Will it be as good as The Art of Racing in the Rain? For me, I always feel a little terrible comparing a book I loved to the author's next book because I feel like it's doomed to not be as good, even if it's really good. We'll see.

I'm hoping that all this reading will make me remember what I love about writing. Until then, I'll read on.

Reading Books by People You Know

Aaron Hamburger was one of the smartest, most precise mentors I had the privilege of working with during my time in the Stonecoast MFA program. I adored him and his teaching abilities but I had never read anything he'd written. This was deliberate. I tried not to read anything by anyone I might work with at Stonecoast. Someone once gave me the advice that it was better to evaluate teaching based on teaching, not teaching based on writing. In other words, just because I might like or dislike the writing doesn't mean the author wouldn't be able to teach me a thing or two. Style is separate from craft.

Which is all to say that I hadn't read Aaron Hamburger's The View From Stalin's Head until last week. And, not only is Aaron a great teacher, the guy can really write.

These stories are smart and funny and so human I felt like I knew every one of his characters, and cared about them even when they were doing foolish things (possibly because they were doing foolish things). Set in Prague in the 1990s, every one of these stories is impeccably crafted to create the feeling of foreignness (in many ways), of trying to fit in, of wanting to be part of a bigger whole.

Character, place, desire--all of the things Aaron tried to teach me are here on the page

Big Little Lies

I've had a friend in the hospital for the past five weeks and so I've been in the car a lot, traveling back and forth. I've listened to audio books in the past and sometimes I find them too distracting, or I find the road too distracting and I miss parts of the story (God forbid). But, seeing I was traveling the same road over and over, I decided it might work this time.

What a great pleasure it was to listen to Liane Moriarty's Big Little Lies. I thoroughly enjoyed the Greek chorus of interviews, the mystery of who died and how, the Australian accents. But this story also had a surprising heft to it. I was prepared for light and fluffy and there is that--with glamorous, hilarious women who are sometimes catty, sometimes sweet--but there's also substance here. Moriarty takes on the oft-told tale of domestic violence with a lot of heart. She doesn't over-play the issue and she definitely doesn't shy away from looking at it from all angles.

I finished this book weeping, and with the feeling that these characters were real women with whom I would love to spend more time.

Summer House with Swimming Pool

I loved Herman Koch's dark and shocking The Dinner so I eagerly snatched up his latest, Summer House with Swimming Pool. Narrated by an un-apologetically acerbic doctor, this book is as cringe-worthy as The Dinner. And I adored it. What can I say? I have a thing for unlikeable characters and Koch does them so well--so well, in fact, that I wonder how he gets away with it. His books are not for the weak of stomach, or anyone hoping for someone to root for. His characters say and do and think things that we, only in our worst moments, might brush up against. But that's the thing, I think--Koch dares to go to the places we, in polite society, will not. In this novel, he unblinkingly shows us what happens when a questionably morale doctor uses the tools of his trade to right a wrong committed against his family. This is not a feel-good tale. But it is darkly funny and deeply honest. And unnerving.