Fellow Travelers
Friends,
It’s been a while. I’ve been traveling---most recently to Mexico City with my family, pretty much our first trip just to be tourists somewhere. The city was as sensual and wonderful (as in literally full of wonders) and delicious as everyone had told me it would be. We already miss the fresh juices and the dogs and the walks and the very different noises and colors and light that accompany being somewhere new. There are photos on my Instagram account if you’re interested.
In late March I had a good set of days at AWP. I did my first two panels, one in tribute to the great Glimmer Train, which is closing shop after nearly three decades of stories. I’m honored to have been interviewed for their final issue, which publishes this fall. I spent a lot of the conference finding writers I’d only interacted with online and saying “you’re real!” as I hugged them. At its best AWP is about sharing knowledge and connecting. The conference made me think about how our work as a community is about not only leaving the door open for other writers but about waiting, holding that door so we can pass it back, about how important it is---in all facets of our lives---to make connections across generations, to be part of a lineage by whatever threads we make.
One of my favorite conference moments was when a writer came up to after my Glimmer Train panel and asked if she could tell me something sort of strange. And of course I said by all means and she explained that while I read she noticed a yellow light emanating from me (she seemed as genuinely perplexed to have noticed such a thing as I was to hear it) and she looked it up and showed me this. I’ll take it. Spread that yellow light.
Reading, Thinking, Feeling
This year I was lucky enough to read first round applications for an MFA program. It was exhilarating and wrenching to see so much talent and potential in the queue. I was also unsurprised to see that the bulk of applicants come from privileged backgrounds. Next week on Twitter I’ll talk some more about general tips for applying to programs and put out the larger call that I’ll be offering a free MFA consult package to an underrepresented writer who is applying for a fiction MFA this year. If you are this person or know someone who is, you can get in touch with me on this page of my website.
Books I’ve loved of late: T Kira Madden’s LONG LIVE THE TRIBE OF FATHERLESS GIRLS, which I described on Twitter as “being handed someone’s bloody and beautiful heart.” I stand by that. Also really enjoyed THE FRUIT OF THE DRUNKEN TREE by Ingrid Rojas Contreras, because sister books are my jam, and this one has a really great structure. Been savoring Khadijah Queen’s I’M SO FINE the past few days.
I had the great honor of being in conversation for the launch of my dear friend KC Trommer’s debut poetry collection, WE CALL THEM BEAUTIFUL. It’s a joyous and fierce collection about the ways in which we orbit one another, about wells of strength, about motherhood, about artmaking, and I cannot recommend it highly enough. At the reading KC asked us to talk to people we didn’t know. She assured us it would be great, and she was right. A gathering is the best kind of reading.
BACK TALK is a Taurus. Who knew?!!?
I did manage to catch a killer cold in Mexico City, so spent a day inside reading this interview between Sarah Manguso (If you haven’t read 300 ARGUMENTS yet, you should pause and go order it immediately) and Kate Zambreno and watching Beyoncé's Homecoming documentary. Both ask vital questions about motherhood and its impact on artists.
Our travel meant we missed hosting Passover, which is one of my favorite holidays. The storytelling, the gathering, the (at our table anyway) ridiculous renditions of songs, the call to be more responsible for one another. It also meant that my husband couldn’t leave the reading of the section on “next year in Jerusalem” in the Haggadah we’ve assembled to me, which I love and yet always makes me burst into tears. He does it out of love, I promise you. It’s from The New American Haggadah and it goes like this:
“It is very likely that you are reading this in the Diaspora, a word which here means “everywhere in the universe except Israel.” Even though Israel is designated as the Jewish homeland, most Jews live in the Diaspora, for any number of good or bad reasons. Whatever your reasons are for living in the Diaspora, to some extent Israel is still your home tonight, for when we read the story of Passover and think about the journey from slavery to freedom, you accompany those Jewish slaves on that journey, and part of their struggle stays with you, the way the heroes of any good story stay with you long after you are done reading. Their journey ends in Jerusalem, a place of freedom and safety for the Jewish people, and so we end the Seder with the words “Next year in Jerusalem,” acknowledging their longing for a home and their satisfaction at finally finding one. Even if you do not believe you will celebrate Passover next year in Jerusalem, you may say these words and think of your own home, which I hope is one of freedom and safety, and the journey of all the people in the world, which are often difficult and treacherous, as they try to find homes for themselves. Next year, we hope everyone in the world has freedom and safety and can celebrate holidays in a home full of fellow travelers who wish them well, just as everyone at this Passover table wishes you well, even the person you like the least. Let us be grateful for the homes we have, and hopeful for the homes of others, this year and the Diaspora, and next year in Jerusalem."
I didn't get to read it at a seder this year, but I hope for this every year for my fellow travelers, and being farther out in the diaspora than we usually are, this year was no exception.
Where to Find Me
NYC! One of my stories is going to be read by a professional actress next week—Wednesday, May 8th-- as part of the famed Selected Shorts program at Symphony Space. I am very excited to be included in this motherhood focused edition. (Please note this is a ticketed event.)
No, really, I'm *still* working on my novel.
I’m also taking on private consult clients for manuscripts or MFA applications. More info here.
Talk soon,
Danielle