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Feeling Blue? Anxiety-itchy? Make some popcorn and plop down on the couch for one of these films to ease your mind, or at least give you a diversion.

 

Laugh-riot movies (suggested to me on FB. I have not vetted all of these. Bold titles had multiple mentions):

 

Booksmart
Hot Fuzz
Fast Times at Ridgemont High
Isn’t it Romantic
A Fish Called Wanda
Stakeout
Planes, Trains, and Automobiles
Fantastic Mr. Fox
Sisters
(Original) Pink Panther movies
Death of Stalin
21 Jump St.
Throw Mama From the Train
Forgetting Sarah Marshall
What We Do in the Shadows
JoJo Rabbit
City Island
Fleabag (not a film, but season 2? WOW!)
How to be a Latin Lover
Bridesmaids
Private Parts
Trainwreck
Soapdish
9-5
Between Two Ferns
Flirting w/Disaster
(Original) The Producers
South Park Movie (emphatic endorsement)
Team America-World Police
Quick Change
Airplane
Cold Comfort Farm
My Favorite Year
Impromtu
Hot Rod (advised to watch while high!)
Life of Brian
Kentucky Fried Movie
Zoolander
Meet the Parents
Secret Life of Walter Mitty
Singing in the Rain
The Lady Eve
My Cousin Vinny
Little Miss Sunshine
Get Shorty
Happy Face
Yesterday
Safety Not Guaranteed
40 Year Old Virgin
The Proposal
What About Bob
Vacation
Moonstruck
Best in Show
Waiting for Guffman
A Mighty Wind
How to Build a Girl
Almost Famous
Lady Bird

 

Thank you for taking care of yourselves. Thank you for being extra kind to the people you see in the world (from 6 feet apart). There is nothing racist about this virus. Thank you: medical professionals, farmers, grocery store clerks, generous neighbors, sanitation workers and many other kind human beings. I’ll be in touch.

 

 

 

 

I’m having a bit of a hard go right now. How are you? I cannot tell you exactly how much time I spend cruising the Humane Society, Pixie Project, and other dog rescue websites, but it’s significant, it’s basically like sucking my thumb. I also self-soothe by lying on my floor pretending to do Pilates, drinking tea, scrolling through Instagram, and I’ve developed the habit of taking one tot of booze while I cook dinnertime snacks. Notice I did not say dinner. Reading, writing, and eating have morphed for me, so here are a few things to see you through: watch.listen.snack. (Forgive my rudimentary graphics! I’m flying by the seat of my pants.) read.write.eat will be back in a week!

 

watch: Remember last week when I suggested War and Peace!  Ha ha. That was a joke on me! If you are doing it, I am so proud of you! We’re having a silly old movie festival:  The Princess Bride, which we watched last night and it is still a joy! Next, my husband’s fav: Groundhog Day, which we will follow with Big. We’ve also made a group movie date for Emma, which our cable company has made available. We’ve reached out to pals and plan to make popcorn (see below!) then all press play at the same time, and yes, we will text each other through the movie! I know, heresy!! Yet we will feel some togetherness. If you don’t know about Better Things I am quite jealous because you have 3½ seasons of smart, funny, and real ahead of you. If you’re limiting your news intake, which I recommend, you may want to follow Katie Couric on Instagram, as she has a solid and quick Covid-19 Update every day. For art, please, please (especially if you have children at home, though not a requirement) follow WendyMac on Instagram as well. Click on her stories to get amazing art classes. I think she deserves a MacArthur Grant for this work she’s doing!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

listen: Podcasts are your friends! Clean out closets, take a bath, trim your bangs (well maybe not). Whatever you need to do, put on a podcast, and take care of yourself while you listen. Pumping-up your sagging spirits: try Unlocking Us with Brene Brown  On Being with Krista Tippett I’m going to try Making Sense with Sam Harris Art/Literature/Poetry: New Yorker Poetry, about 30 minutes of smart! Try this one, featuring a gorgeous poem by Ellen Bass. Otherppl is a great longform interview show. Chitty-chatty: Armchair Expert, I liked conversations with Malcolm Gladwell, Peggy Orenstein, Sanjay Gupta, and Ronan Farrow Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend, particularly the Al Franken episode. Longform storytelling: check S-Town, it’ll captivate you. And for music, we’ve got United We Swing, Best of Jazz at the Lincoln Center, on repeat. And, we’re enjoying Nick Drake as well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

snack: A lot of salami happening at our house! My husband has been putting tiny morsels (to make it last) on top of cheese toast and setting it in the broiler for a few minutes. Salty, crunchy, fatty. It checks all the boxes and goes down quite will with that tot of booze I mentioned earlier. If you must be pseudohealthy, try this from Smitten Kitchen: kale chips crushed over buttered and salted popcorn. Happen to have a pantry full of nuts, this looks delicious!  Wholeheartedly recommend these Spinach Balls with Honey-Mustard Sauce: For something sweet and delicious, I’m loving Chocolate Panini! I know, it’s decadent and slightly weird. If you don’t have access to a grill, you can cook them in a cast iron fry pan. Check out Mark Bittman’s entire website for delicious food, but these panini are easy and satisfying and bring to mind the Italian film I loved when I was in high school, Bread & Chocolate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That’s it for today. Thank you for taking care of yourselves. Thank you for being extra kind to the people you see in the world (from 6 feet apart). There is nothing racist about this virus. Thank you: medical professionals, farmers, grocery store clerks, generous neighbors, sanitation workers and many other kind human beings. I’ll be in touch.

 

 

 

 

I overheard a student of mine mention that my workshop guidelines were very different than any she’d encountered before, in a good way. I got a little puffed up when I heard the comment. I’ve worked hard, read many books, and tried lots of strategies to come up with a workshop protocol that allows the writer to keep moving on her manuscript.  The last thing I ever want is to shut someone down. I imagine in my early days as a workshop attendee I did just that, pointing out faults and speaking with the unbearable pomposity of youth! I’m cringing right now and wish I knew to whom I owe an apology. I’m sorry…
My student went on to say that my workshop guidelines are actually good marital advice! Who knew? i certainly don’t consider myself an expert, but I can see what she meant.

In an effort to contribute to good relationships and workshops, here’s what little I have!

 

Workshop Guidelines

The primary job of workshop is not only to help the writer recognize what may need attention in their pages, but also to describe, appreciate, analyze, and illuminate the pages as accurately, carefully and generously as possible. Reflecting back to the writer what the words on the page seem to say or want to be allows her to understand whether or not the work is conveying her intention. I am of the belief that we learn equally from what we do well and from our failed attempts. And yet, often we cannot tell which is which. Thus careful reading is not only for the writer’s benefit but for the benefit of the entire group. Ideally, the workshop should sharpen one’s ability to read, understand, and explicate any work, including your own.

Appreciate, illuminate, reflect back, be generous! We have to let our partners know that we see them, right? Pay Attention. 

The greatest problem with a fault finding workshop is that it’s discouraging! It reverses the writer’s momentum driving her back upon what has been written rather than forward toward continuing the work or toward development of her essential vision. Bitching and nagging are ultimately barren, in love and in criticism. Partners and manuscripts become hostile resentful, inhibited, fearful and depressed. They slam doors, pout and refuse to talk. Revision is a continuous, incessant, vital part of writing, it is the effort to see and to develop further what’s right about a piece, what is good and successful and engaging. Only finding fault is not necessarily supporting the writers vision.

Focusing on faults (though I get that it’s tempting…I’ve been married 30 years) is discouraging. And, criticism may prop you up for a second, as in feeling a bump of superiority when you’re the one who remembered to buy soap, send your mother-in-law a card, maintain your boundaries, but it won’t last and it won’t build anything. You want to support what you love about your partner, and hold yourself up to the spirit of revision as well.  

Read your colleague’s manuscript through twice. (I recognize that few of us will do this…it’s about hours in the day, but if you have time, please do. You will be amazed at what you notice and you will learn so much about writing.) The first time, do so with the intention of absorbing the story. Read slowly and carefully. The second time, read through with pencil in hand to make notations in the margins. underline or draw circles around what is working, what sparkles, is memorable, evocative, effective or fun, vivid, rich in sensory details, language that says the right thing in the right way. Explain in the margins why you liked what you’ve marked. Be celebratory and generous and true. Believe in the best of the story.

Celebrate what’s working. (Thank you for bringing me coffee in bed! Thanks for going to that obscure French film you probably would never choose on your own! Thanks for reminding me to laugh and let it go…) Give compliments. Be generous. Believe in the best in your partner. 

Put question marks in the margins where things aren’t going well, where you get lost, bored or confused, where the writing seems too shallow or oblique. Add a brief statement about what wasn’t working, why you were confused. These places that are sticky, stuck, or not working are often growth edges. It may be blurry but there may be good energy as well. Troubles are doorways. Ask questions in the margins.

Make your complaints brief and clear. Troubles are doorways to better understanding your partner, yourself, and your relationship.

Do not worry about grammar mishaps, misspellings, etc… This is rough draft material.

I know this one is abundantly clear! Is it worth it to complain about the way your partner slices the apple? Makes, or doesn’t make, the bed? Chews gum? You may not change them, ever. So you’ll have to learn to live with this rough draft material. Don’t sweat the small stuff. 

It takes far greater maturity to notice the words that shimmer, far greater generosity and vulnerability to admit when you’ve been touched. When reading someone’s work: REVEAL rather than revile. ILLUMINATE rather than deride and dismiss.

Let your partner know when they shimmer. Reveal what upsets you, discuss, listen to what upsets them. Be curious not cursory.

Finally, what are some questions or concerns you have at this point?  Based on a question or concern, offer one suggestion for revision. Give your comments to the writer.

Don’t overwhelm your partner with suggestions for revision! Maybe ask of them one thing that you’d like to be different.

Workshop Protocol

• Select a time keeper
• Writer reads a short passage from their story/essay
• Writer remains silent
• Responders discuss the work, beginning with a description
• We begin with positive comments. Let them run dry
• Shift to questions about the work. Of course positive comments will continue to come forth as we discuss what is and is not working.
• Understand that as we continue to talk about the work, our own opinions may shift, grow and change. That is the alchemy of worshop.
• Ask the writer if they want ideas in the vein of “Maybe this will work…”
• After an allotted time, the timekeeper gives the 5 minute warning and writer gets to redirect discussion if s/he has a pressing question about their work

P.S.  Notes to Self During Workshop: Or argument w/partner

• Strive for a personal balance between listening & talking. (Quiet people, this is your chance to shine. Surprise us with your wisdom and insight. Talkers, this is your chance to listen.)
• Respond to one another.
• Show compassion to one another.
• Be helpfully critical.

 

 

In 2002, when my family moved from Santa Cruz to Portland, one of my very first acts as a citizen was to buy a subscription to Portland Arts and Lectures—world class authors speaking to capacity audiences in a beautiful concert hall? I’m in! Arriving downtown for the first lecture, my husband and I were pleased and shocked by the hullaballoo. There were people with lighted wands directing cars to parking garages. This traffic situation was not for the Rolling Stones, but for a writer. Man. My heart warmed. I knew this city and I were a good fit.

Last Saturday I spent the day at the Portland Book Festival in which the Schnitzer concert hall and nine additional stages, plus the Portland Art Museum were filled with 100+ amazing writers, booksellers, and readers for an entire day. Thousands of attendees buy books, become inspired, support writers and join in the city’s thriving literary community. It’s an embarrassment of riches.

Here are the events I attended:

I was lucky to hear Ambassador Susan Rice speak in support of her book, TOUGH LOVE. At this time in history we’re all so hungry for heroes and, reality check: we can’t depend upon finding them in our current leaders, so we seek them in our writers. Ambassador Susan Rice is all three: leader, hero, writer.

In her conversation with Dave Miller, she talked about her parent’s contentious marriage, her father’s strengths and philosophy. He told her, “Bigotry is a function of someone else’s insanity.” And he pushed her to never ask for permission or affirmation. Believe in herself, she was taught.

Speaking about today’s political climate, no surprise that Ambassador Rice views climate change as the top national security threat. She spoke confidently that if the current administration prevails in the next election, damage wrought by them, on the climate, on the middle class and poor, on immigrants and health care, may not be able to be turned around. But if democrats win the election we can undo some of the damage starting by rejoining the Paris Agreement.

 

Tim O’Brien was next up on my dance ticket. He spoke about his new book, DAD’S MAYBE BOOK. O’Brien came to fatherhood late, having his first son at 56, and he spoke about the particular vulnerability of being an older father. He spoke of his sons as being “pains in the ass, and needles in the heart.” His sons brought “joy to a man who felt he had no joy left,” a man who self-identifies as having the heart of a crocodile. That was a heartbreaking thing to hear, especially knowing that the particular sweet joy of children in the house flows and ebbs.

O’Brien was incredibly candid and tender, tearing up a few times, as was I. He spoke about his wife, giving him a “kid ultimatum.” He tried cornering her, asking her if she loved what didn’t exist, the possibility of a child, more than she loved him. And she said, yes, absolutely. It was so curious. Don’t we all love what doesn’t exist? Isn’t that the very definition of yearning?

Finally he spent time talking about the concept of MAYBE. Since serving in the Viet Nam war, life has forever been a maybe. Maybe I will step on a landmine today. Maybe my best friend will take the hit. We’re all living maybe lives. Maybe, according to O’Brien, is not evil, it is not immoral. “Maybe.” “I think.” “Possibly.” They’re all excellent words. Not being certain is a gift, because uncertainty keeps us open to the possibility that we may be wrong, we may have something to learn. The current administration, said O’Brien, suffers from a dearth of maybe.

 

The last event of my day, a panel on family and history and trauma and breaking free, Ties that Bind. Damn! Isn’t that relevant to…ummm….everyone? Inherited trauma leaves little and large road blocks in all our DNA.  The panelists were the funny and wonderful Elizabeth McCracken, the exuberant Daniel Jose Older, and Karl Marlantes.

The thing that interested me most was when the discussion veered toward ghosts. Particularly how different cultures treat their ghosts. Older spoke of the disrespect and eradication of ghosts in the US, while in other cultures, namely his Cuban heritage, ghosts are leaned upon. ” Put out some food and ask for help,” he suggested. McCracken took up the conversation, noting that our ghosts are often disenfranchised from self and story. For example a ghost is simply “the ghost of a little girl,” not a particular little girl. It got me thinking about ancestors and dreams and how we might find guidance in this rough and tumble world. I know I could use some. I’d love to go through life feeling my grandmother, who died 27 years ago, has my back. And, what of the long line of ancestors about whom I know nothing? Maybe they have my back too. Maybe.

I always tell my writing students the quirks and idiosyncratic behaviors are the juice, the jam, of our characters. Those details make our people real. McCracken (whose work and humor I LOVE) says that quirks are the manifestations of trauma. Imagine, so many of us hang the hat of our personality upon inherited trauma, what a rich vein to burden our characters with quirks and oddball habits directly related to the lives of our ancestors!

 

All in all, the festival was a thrill.  I missed so many panels and readings, but you know what? That’s okay. It’s nice to know that Literary Arts lays out such a feast. And, we can hear what we missed in their Archive project.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I come from a family of list makers. My grandmother wrote her lists (both to do and grocery) with her black coffee and cigarette on the patio of her Miami beach home. My Aunt’s lists are written in beautiful cursive. Once I saw an item about halfway down, in between going to the market, and paying bills, ‘IB away” it said. When I asked her what it meant, she laughed, “Ironing board away!” The lists my mother kept when I was a child were also about the minutiae of her day, brush teeth they might have said, right above, finish thesis project and buy tickets to Crosby, Stills and Nash concert. My mother didn’t need to be reminded to brush her teeth, nor did my Aunt need a reminder to take down the ironing board, they just wanted the satisfaction of a beefy list all crossed off. Who doesn’t? I write lists all the time, with boring and aspirational goals. My husband has reams of lists which he rewrites on yellow legal pads. Sure, there are a million list apps, but I’m an old-school girl. Something about writing them out and crossing them out is supremely satisfying.

 

Why I love lists

 

1. 1. Lists organize us, help us remember, and make us feel good about ourselves.
   2. You can include on your list something you’ve already done so you can enjoy the buzz of crossing it off.
   3. Didn’t finish it? Carry action items over from one list to the next. For example, I’ve had finish my novel on my list for YEARS!  And lately I’ve been carrying over the item, tattoo?
   4. It is supremely satisfying and dangerous to write lists for other people, but I have done it, and it felt marvelous for me…maybe not so great for the listee.
   5. If you’re feeling blue, it’s okay to write, take a bath, take a walk, smile more to engage the feedback loop, on your list.
   6. Lists have space for BIG and small items, just below make a dentist appointment you can add, learn French! Or high dive in Brazil.
   7. Save your lists! They are a historical record of your life.
   8. List your favorite books, movies, meals, tv shows, etc… when you look back you’ll get a little frisson of happiness and discover what interested you.
   9. Save lists people have given to you. Here’s a list our daughter gave to us when she was around 6 or so.
      
      
   10. I start each day with a mini list: my g3/m3. Three things I’m grateful for and three things I want to manifest in my day. Sometimes they’re really pragmatic and sometimes lofty, I don’t write them with a cigarette like my grandma wrote her lists, but I do share them with a friend, nearly everyday, we swap our g3/m3 list to inspire and motivate one another.

How is it that sometimes I just wake up in a mood? Nothing happened in the night beyond the ordinary getting up once to pee, dreams are neither remembered nor rehashed. And yet, as my eyes adjust to the morning light, I feel a mood in full force in my mind and body…happy or grumpy, energized or frazzled, worried, or, (and rarely these days), at peace.  This morning I woke up in full “I’m a fraud!” glory! You might know what I’m talking about: Who do I think I am _______, doing what I do?  For me, that means writing. I beat myself up. What do I have of any value to add to the conversation? How am I going to drag myself to my desk and stare at a blinking curser on a blank screen? The curser who says, fake, fake, fake.

And then I move on to: Oh crap, what am I going to do with the rest of my life? I should have gone to law school!  How did I get myself into this awful space of feeling like a loser if I do work/write and feeling like a loser if I don’t work/write? And, how do I get out of it?

When I’m falling into my self-made sinkholes:

1. I make my bed. Literally. A made bed tells me that I’m a doer. That I care about myself enough to have a sweet spot to welcome me back at the end of the day. I know, it sounds possibly ridiculous, but it works for me, so I’m not going to argue with myself.

 

 

2. I reach out to friends. Because it is now, that means a text. This morning I texted a pal:

 

 

Which led me to texting a dozen pals (that’s kind of like writing, isn’t it?) to discover: “What are the three most pressing midlife concerns for women?” Which led to lots of interesting conversations, some laughs, enormous gratitude for friends and, here is the key, it all led to me FEELING LESS ALONE.  I know in the best case scenario, I would have taken a walk or had coffee with a friend IRL. But this way, I talked to 12 women who live all over the country. And, what I learned lifted me up and fed my work. How great to put these crystallized worries at the center of my characters’ lives.

Here’s how it came out:

1. THEMES:
   1. shifting parenting roles w/adult children vs. teens: “What now? How to shift focus from family as a priority to another priority of meaning and value?”
   2. aging parents: “What will I be when I am no longer a daughter?”
   3. aging body: “What happened to my face? Knees? Vagina?”
   4. finances: “Will I ever be able to retire?”
   5. health and worry over future loss of a facile mind
   6. and, no surprise here: Who Am I/Who do I Want to Be?
      • “Isn’t it supposed to be easier now?”
      • “Will I ever figure out my life?”
      • “How is it that everything that motivated me in my career now seems worthless?”
      • “Is my marriage working?”
      • “Isn’t love enough?”
      • “Is my life about others? Or is it about me?”

Even the glib answers, which made me laugh, spoke to loss and worry about our place in the world—how we can claim what we want, and how we often cave in to what a youth-obsessed society tells us about middle aged women. Elective surgery? Self-medication?

• “Who has the name of a good plastic surgeon?”
• “What is the best rosé?”
• “Is this fat around my stomach or is it really a new organ?”
• “Shall I color my hair?”
• “How do I stay supple?”

We are caregivers. We want love. We want to feel our lives and our work are of value. Of course we support our adult children as they learn to support themselves. We care for our parents. And at times we feel squeezed dry. (How do I stay supple? has many implications, no?) We maintain our sense of humor. We worry over at risk populations in a post-democratic United States. We vote, march, make phone calls, give money, change jobs, dye our hair or let it go gray. We leave marriages, we fall in love, sometimes we drink too much rosé, we worry, and we think about how to be the best old ladies we can. As one friend (who, by the way, was recovering from a bilateral mastectomy when she wrote this) said:

We do have choices. We may wake up in a state, but we can choose how we want to face the day, and how we want to face the last act of our short and beautiful lives. Lots of Beauty. Lots of laughs. That shit is real!

 

 

 

 

“There isn’t time to say a word. Roberta doesn’t scream. George doesn’t touch the brake. The big car flashes before them, a huge, dark flash, without lights, seemingly without sound. It comes out of the dark corn and fills the air right in front of them the way a big flat fish will glide into view suddenly in an aquarium tank. It seems to be no more than a yard in front of their headlights. Then it is gone–it has disappeared into the corn on the other side of the road.”

This is from a favorite Alice Munro story, “Labor Day Dinner.’ It comes near the end, offering a moment of mystery and suspension of time. What an amazing and beautiful feat.

 

Alice Munro has said, “A story is not like a road to follow … it’s more like a house. You go inside and stay there for a while, wandering back and forth and settling where you like and discovering how the room and corridors relate to each other, how the world outside is altered by being viewed from these windows. And you, the visitor, the reader, are altered as well by being in this enclosed space, whether it is ample and easy or full of crooked turns, or sparsely oropulently furnished. You can go back again and again, and the house, the story, always contains more than you saw the last time. It also has a sturdy sense of itself of being built out of its own necessity, not just to shelter or beguile you.”

I’m excited about taking a deep dive into Munro territory. I’ll be leading a Soapstone discussion group, Entering the House of Munro, for 6 Tuesday evenings, 19 September thru 24 October. Come join me! email info@soapstone.org if you’re interested, and I hope you are. Just a few spots left!