Good Light Comfortable Chair

Deanna Hershiser's Question of the Week

Last Thursday, writer Deanna Hershiser posed an interesting question at her blog, deanna hershiser: capturing a story's glimmer.

". . .I'd love to know why other people pick up and start a magazine article, an anthology chapter, or a book. If you're not always thinking about writing them what context usually brings on your need to read, out in the real world?"

Deanna's question made me laugh a little. You would laugh, too, if you could see my house. Instead of the proverbial trail of breadcrumbs, I leave a trail of books and magazines dribbled through the rooms, tables and countertops.

The living room sofa is reserved for Harpers, The New Yorker and Poet & Writer. Harper's is gutted for its fiction stories. Same for The New Yorker, once I have perused the often funny, sometimes inscrutable, and occasionally cruel cartoons. Poets & Writers remains intact, with annotated sticky notes serving as tabs for pages I want to easily find again.

The dining table has a stack of books ready to retun to the nearby University of West Florida library. I can check out ten books at a time there, which I seem to have taken as a mandate.  The library's third floor is quiet, cool and lined with books by and about wonderful authors. Too often, I am in a rush when I go there, sometimes trailing a gaggle of grandchildren. One day, I would like to arrive when the doors open, take the compact elevator to the third floor, and spend the whole day in solitary pleasure, fondling books.

Each morning, I slip out from our bedroom early, trying not to awaken my sleeping husband. The guest bathroom where I brush my teeth always has an open book by the sink. This morning, it is a copy of a sweet book written by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. It is written as a series of letters between the various characters -- a perfect format for reading a few every morning while tooth-brushing.

Most of the books I read these days are recommended by other writers or discovered in some other serendipitous way. In a tumble at my desk or beside the bed are Elizabeth George's Write Away: One Novelist's Approach to Fiction and the Writing Life (thank you, Richard Gilbert);  Brenda Miller and Suzanne Paoli's Tell It Slant; the various "best of" anthologies for essays, short stories and spiritual writing (thank you, Lisa Ohlen Harris); and The Portable MFA in Creative Writing by The New York Writers Group.

A good friend recently sent me a small gem of a book. It's called The War of Art: Break through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles, by Steven Pressfield (thank you, Denny Coates).

Ear buds are usually stuck in my ear before tuning out the lights. Selections for listening might include Stephen King's very fine craft book, On Writing, Hemingway's,  A Moveable Feast, James Joyce's Ulysses (which I just started and am surprised by how much I am enjoying), or an interesting podcast or two, either from NPR or Ted Talks.

Some books teach me, some inspire, some are pure mind candy and others stiffen my spine.

Thanks for asking the question, Deanna!

Adjusting the Lens

I have been like a woman surveying her closet, seeing that she has come to an age, stage, style, or attitude toward life when it feels like she has nothing to wear. She begins to edit, pulling out that old pair of capri pants (what on earth was she thinking?) or this tailored striped cotton shirt that requires ironing (good grief, who does that anymore?), and she pulls and pulls until she has flung everything out onto the bed.

Then she examines the empty space, dusts, vacuums, polishes and considers: what covers my body adequately and fits my lifestyle? What pleases me?

I am doing that with books and authors right now. It has (at last) dawned on me that I may be able to read every cereal box that comes along, but I can't read every author or book that floats in front of my place along life's virtual river.

Now that the writing has become more important to me than the reading, I realize suddenly that time is short and there is too much to learn not to edit the brainfood I am consuming. I thought of this today, when reading a friend's question to me about Annie Dillard. "Have you read Annie Dillard?" 

"Yes," I thought. "Of course I have. " After all, Annie Dillard is the "It" woman for literary nonfiction.

But when I pulled The Annie Dillard Reader from the shelf, I realized that is the only Annie Dillard book I have, besides her craft book, The Writing Life. When I started thumbing through it, I could see certain passages that I had underlined, but realized soon enough that when I read it before, I was not ready to apply any of the lessons to my own writing.

And so, I find that I have read excerpts, but I have not really read Annie Dillard. Only Annie Dillard will be Annie Dillard. But I want to live in her neighborhood, where I can walk by and see the light in her window. She is Central Park and I am a jogger!

Same goes for other writers whose light can inform, inspire and teach me along my rather recently chosen path.

Look Homeward, Angel may go back to the stacks, unread for now. I'll still read novels, and even a little fluffy mind candy along, but my primary focus will be short stories and literary nonfiction.

These are my coffee and peanut butter sandwich thoughts on a Sunday morning. . . how about you? Where are you in your reading and/or writing life?

Look Homeward, Angel

Thomas Wolfe's first novel, Look Homeward, Angel, was published in 1929.  Wolfe was born in Asheville, North Carolina. Buck and I spent seven summers (and much of the time in-between) there between 1997 and 2004. The photo above was taken from our front porch. The photo below was taken from our back deck. Easy to see how a writer could get inspired at this altitude. We miss it.

I have just begun reading Look Hormeward, Angel. The regard or disregard with which it has been held has varied through the years since it was published. Have you read it? What do you think?

Summer Reading

Most of the books on this table came from recommendations from friends: Kathleen Scott, Denny Coates, and Richard Gilbert. Chautaqua journal, seen in the photo, has Richard's story, A Dry Season, in it.

Two of the books, T. C. Boye's Stories, and Thomas Wolfe's Look Homeward, Angel are recent acquisitions borrowed for a few weeks from the University of West Florida library.

I've been talking about getting a library card at UWF for a year or more and finally did it last week. Why did I wait so long? Man, talk about Heaven!  I got off the elevator on the third floor and lost myself in the stacks of literature -- the only person in this huge room. It's summer, of course, but now that I have my card and a parking decal, I plan to become a regular and drink from the fountain of this incredible local resource.