Let's Go
Friends,
I have a number of friends currently finishing short story manuscripts (yay, short stories!) and was looking through my old notebooks for how I handled assembling them. I found so many bits and bobs, all the nuggets that didn’t make it into the collection or the stories in the end. Including multiple stories—at least 3—that never made it to the final cut at all. I feel possessive of these rejects, because they truly represent how my brain works, what I was trying to figure out and the ways I moved through that space of not knowing. Questions have always been a big part of my work (I wrote about how I use them to work here). I loved seeing all that mess on paper, the process of figuring what I’d let out into the world and also the moments where I let things in, the seeds for stories or themes that would shape the stories. I’m grateful to have a profession where I can literally see so much of my process. I’m not one for artifacts, but I love these notebooks.
I’m grateful, too, that BACK TALK is now a year old***! It’s been a ride, and I am feeling grateful especially for all of you for your support and continued enthusiasm as I shift from writing a book to having a career.
These days I’m deep in revising my novel but it’s less changes and cuts than it is reformation. So much will not survive this next round of drafting but it’s built on the roots of what I’ve already written and cut. This process this round is teaching me that anything added was already there. I wrote about the false cleave a”new” anything gives us a sense of last fall, and I stand by this in the new year and with each “new” writing project. It’s as important to look at what’s already there, to know that we have a lot of what we need. And then, onward.
Lately when I walk the dog, who is old (13 and a half and wonderfully in his DGAF stage, refusing to get off the couch on which he’s not permitted, for starters), I’ve noticed he looks behind him a fair amount. At first I thought it was when we rounded a corner; he’s always been a paranoid guy, and my husband and I joke about how he definitely thinks someone is following him, always has—but lately I’ve noticed that it’s sometimes when he spots someone and he seems to wait for them, as if he’s asking if they are coming with us. For a dog who doesn’t like strangers, this is curious behavior, and I know I’m projecting, but still, I’ve come to appreciate this pause, this noticing, and too, the moment when I tell him to come along. We’ve got places to be and good spots on the couch to refuse to get up from and people to be with. Thanks for coming along with me this year. I hope you’ll stick around to see what’s next.
***Back Talk has always been a paperback, so is out there for the same low price of $16, and I’d love your continued support in the form of purchasing copies for those who haven’t read it yet. Buy links are on my home page if you need 'em. Also, reviews on Goodreads, Amazon, B&N, or wherever you do that sort of thing. Remember, books don’t expire.
Reading, Thinking, Feeling
Yes I’m watching Marie Kondo how can you tell? I loved this episode of Still Processing on it, especially the end bits about legacies.
Speaking of joy and legacies, last week was my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary and I tried my best to re-create their wedding cake, minus some tiers and doilies and swans. I documented most of that on Instagram and saved it in my stories as a highlight. Spoiler: I did not learn how to make buttercream roses. Though when we were eating said cake (which was freaking delicious, according to my totally objective family), my mom said she was pretty sure the flowers were made out of sugar and my guess is pre-fabricated so I feel much better about my piping fails overall.
Last year this time I was in the big know-nothing stage of pre-and early publication anxiety. My Instagram feed was packed with what I dubbed stress citrus. I eat a lot of citrus in winter because thought it’s cold and deadness everywhere, citrus is so pretty and in season, as if it knows what all of us northern-dwellers need. I very much approve of stress citrus. Grapefruits are especially good for this because they are so large and make no mistake 75% of stress citrus is the satisfaction of ripping something apart. The other 25% is scent.
I will sorry/not sorry for bragging the one of the best things about living in New York is the theater. This year I’ve already seen The Band’s Visit (about to close! Get to it if you can!) and Blue Ridge, and loved them both. I also scored tickets to Phoebe-Waller Bridge’s Fleabag. If you can’t get to NYC, watch the show wherever it's streaming these days.
We just booked a family vacation to Mexico City in April. I’ll take all your recommendations. We like art and eating and walking. The kids are excellent Spanish speakers. I am working on not embarrassing them while we’re there. My older daughter’s first interception on my part happened when she was 7 or so and she told someone (in Spanish) asking me for help (also in Spanish) that “my mom’s Spanish is not very good.”
Nick White’s SWEET AND LOW. This book. These endings. This book. It's a masterclass in collection assembly, too.
Katya Apenika’s THE DEEPER THE WATER THE UGLIER THE FISH is the best use of multi-point of view I’ve maybe ever seen in all my reading years.
Anna Solomon’s THE LITTLE BRIDE is a heart-rending, riveting story of Jews on the frontier in South Dakota. Who knew? (I also loved her second novel, LEAVING LUCY PEAR, should you be bereft after you finish this one and need more Anna Solomon.)
Where to Find Me
I’m still working on my novel.
Also I’ll be at AWP.
I am open for manuscript consults this spring though, everything from long term coaching to giving feedback on drafts to walking you through an MFA application process (yeah, it’s not too early to think about that). If you’re interested in that sort of thing, email me. There’s a form on my website and we can talk rates, or you can reply to this email directly.
Talk Soon,
Danielle