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Reading Week – TBC

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Happy Friday! Premature happy end of summer!

You may have noticed my absence in your inbox last month. (But probably you didn’t.) I had a small crisis of purpose. See, I’ve been eschewing online reading for other kinds, mostly books. In fact, I’ve finished 49 books this year; almost as many as I read in the all of 2017. It rather changes the purpose of these emails from “things I’ve been reading online plus a few books,” to, “here are some books I’ve been reading plus some digital pocket change.” If you’re fine with the latter, that’s cool, keep reading. If not… eek, sorry!

 

ON MY NIGHTSTAND

I’ve developed a new reading pattern lately. I used to have one fiction and one non-fiction book on the go at the same time (for the most part). Sometimes I’d have two novels in tandem, or I’d read 50 pages of one book, then read an entire other book before getting back to the first one. Lately, though, I’ve had a paperback book (novel, memoir, or essays) on the go, which I read in the daytime and evening, and a novel on my Kindle which I only read before falling asleep. It’s often not very fair on the night-time book, but I’m enjoying it. I’ve also got another novel going in the background right now. Oh, and Evan and I are reading Moby-Dick. So there’s that.

Currently, the daytime/evening book is Outline by Rachel Cusk. I began this one a good few years ago before realising it was the first in a trilogy (followed by Transit and Kudos), and without having heard much about its form. I’m glad I put it down because now reading the series feels like a little project. It’s unusual: it takes the form of a woman (we know she’s a writer and mother, and that’s about it). She’s in Athens to teach a class and meets her seatmate on a plane, an acquaintance, some students. She’s basically going around having conversations with various people – so it’s kind of like being talked at for pages on end. If you go into it without that knowledge, I imagine it’s a challenge to read. So far, I’m with it.

Sleepless Nights by Elizabeth Hardwick is kind of going in the background. I started it about four times and it’s a collection of reminisces by an old lady. It’s pretty modular and I’ve heard you can pick it up and begin at any chapter, or jump around. So I’ve been reading one chapter every other day or so.

On my actual nightstand, on my Kindle, is my current book club read: The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid. The conceit is that it’s about a young journalist who has been plucked from obscurity by a Hollywood starlet and entrusted to sell her life story as a biography after the actress’s death. Really, the premise is just a device for a fictional Hollywood biography. It’s a bit messy and I’m mentally editing a lot of pointless sentences but it’s entertaining enough.

 

A ROUND-ABOUT LOOK

Here’s where we can get into some links and things.

A book I recently read and loved is The Idiot by Elif Batuman. It’s definitely not for everyone, as the mixed reviews you may have seen will prove. It’s pretty plotless, which some people have a hard time with (and is definitely a factor in slowing me down). It also made me feel deeply melancholy, not because of its central element of unrequited love, but because it reminded me so thoroughly of my first couple of years of university, bumbling along, feeling uncertain and overwhelmed, and slowly gathering an emotional vocabulary.

I saved this interview with the author for when I was done (though the spoilers are minor) and, like the interviewer, was taken with Batuman’s way of thinking.

Her piece about Japan’s Rent-a-Family Industry is also emotionally resonant.

Much of The Idiot, and Batuman’s work, has to do with lingustics and languages and immigration. On that topic, I also loved this piece about Maeve Brennan, The Story We Don’t Talk About: On Irishness, Immigration, and Race. It’s wonderfully observed and clearly argued, with a nice wee story to boot. I’m looking forward to reading her new essay collection, Maeve in America.

In related, Rebecca Mead’s recent piece about leaving America after becoming a citizen also resonated, particularly because if we chose to leave we’d be in similar circumstances.

 

ON MY SHELF

Finally, since it’s been awhile, I thought I’d round up a few books I loved reading over the past few months.

The Outrun by Amy Liptrot was an instant favourite for me. It’s often billed as an addiction memoir, but it’s rich in a sense of time and place, and turns into something of a returning-home and a travel memoir simultaneously. If you like your memoir with hints of travel and nature, this one is for you.

You may have heard or read me raving about Jenny Diski. She’s a firm favourite of mine. Recently, I picked up The Vanishing Princess, a collection of her short stories. There are a few threads in terms of style – a few subversive fairy tales, a couple of realist contemporary pieces, and some period (60s and 70s) stories. Almost all of them surprised me in some way and, rare in a short story collection, I got something from them all.

While reading up on Diski’s novels (of which I’ve read none, so far) I also came across this piece – Jenny Diski’s End Notes – which I’m assuming is one of the last interviews she gave. Like Heidi Julavits’ introduction to The Vanishing Princess, it gets to the heart of some of the things I love most about her writing in ways I’ve yet to learn how to articulate.

I’ve bored on quite long enough, so I’ll tell you about reading Moby-Dick another time, eh?
 

TIL NEXT MONTH…

Your turn! What’s on your nightstand? What do you think of this new format? Tweet me, won’t you?

Have a lovely weekend,
Nicola x

Reading Week – Output Input

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Happy Friday! It’s Thursday afternoon as I write this. The blinds are drawn from the late afternoon heat as the sun passes over this side of the house. The cats are chasing a bluebottle, prancing hither and thither like Disney creatures in a field (which is really fricking adorable), then bouncing off things and frightening each other and puffing up into big fur-balls (which is hilarious if unsettling). Is it just me or are they actively getting cuter?

My mind feels fuzzy and my thoughts incoherent today, which is a shame since it’s the one day that I owe you a missive. I’ve the lingering feeling that I’m coming down with something. Plus, it’s been one of those news weeks. Perhaps you’ll have noticed that I don’t tend to comment directly on what politicians are up to here? That’s by design. I’m interested in writing and art – and justice, sure – but it’s very easy to let mainstream politics take over. There’s enough of that on my feed (as probably yours) and when things are so chaotic it’s important to take a break from that to think about things that are more permanent, or joyful, or thoughtful. Though I must say I feel this tweet.

 

ART / WORK

Coming from a hugely creative city and moving to a predominantly agricultural one continues to be an adjustment. I miss literary and film festivals, book launches, receptions, and concerts, and I haven’t found a creative community that I really connect with here.

Lately, I’ve felt blocked in a way that I haven’t found words to describe – which is kind of a feedback loop. Austin Kleon says that problems of output are problems of input. I hope to make it to an art gallery or something while I’m in SF soon. But I’ve also having that feeling that I can never go home (in the philosophical sense). The iconic Mackintosh building in my old Glasgow neighbourhood burned down again, and it’s 2 years since the last Small is Beautiful (a conference for microbusinesses that I was lucky to contribute to bringing to life), so in some ways I feel further from my old creative work life than ever.

Working from home and online, I gravitate towards people who are sharing similar experiences. One thing that’s kept me going recently, both to immerse myself in and to have chattering gently in the background, are illustrators’ vlogs. I’m nosy and I also enjoy seeing how people spend their time; doubly so when they have a somewhat similar profession to mine. I’ve enjoyed Fran Meneses‘ videos for a long time, and she often shares her artistic process and tidbits from behind the scenes. She’s also ramping up for a big overseas move, which I’ll be following with interest. Recently, I’ve also been following a watercolour illustrator called Holly Exley, who does similar videos in a different style. Ashley Baxter, a founder and photographer I know from Glasgow, has also been sharing some of her business journey on YouTube. After going off business podcasts a little while ago, their videos have been scratching that water cooler chat itch.

 

BOOK- ADJACENT

Lauren Groff’s By The Book is an all-timer. Shut it down! Just kidding.

I didn’t know what to do after Anthony Bourdain died, so I bought a bunch of his books. (Kitchen Confidential, Medium Raw, A Cook’s Tour, and The Nasty Bits, if you’re curious.) I also saved these memorials about him from Helen Rosner and Patrick Radden Keefe, both in The New Yorker. I’m going to miss Parts Unknown, though there are many seasons to rewatch and enjoy.

I’ve mentioned how much I loved Anna Hart’s Departures earlier this year. When she went to pre-order her own book on Amazon, she found someone was using her name as a nom de plume. Guess what kind of books she writes? I tracked down a woman writing porn in my name. This is the story of our friendship​.

Men Reviewing Men: Book reviewer Anthony Domestico asks, “Why was I never asked to write about a female author?”

Austin Kleon shares 3 thoughts on a decade of publishing books.

 

ON MY SHELF

M Train set me off on a blitz of similar books. I read Deborah Levy’s The Cost of Living, the latter of the two books she calls her “living memoirs” and written during a time of transition, financial stress, and her mother’s death. The way she reveals links between ideas in her stories is pretty addictive, which is a shame because I’ve never read any others quite like her.

I also dove into Eve Babitz’s Black Swans, which is billed as fictional short stories but which I’m pretty sure are essays (they’re all in the first person and she refers to famous people and their behaviour, which is why I think it’s disguised as fiction). “Free Tibet”, about losing a friend, totally killed me. It also held some glimpses into her state of mind in the nineties (she’s known for the sixties and seventies). It was my favourite of her books I’ve read thus far.

Fiction-wise, I enjoyed The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society: it was more detailed and accomplished than I’d (snobbily) anticipated. I’ve now turned my attention back to The Idiot by Elif Batuman – a divisive novel that I began in March but found I wasn’t in the right mood to read. Now that I’ve renewed my focus and know what to expect, I’m enjoying it more. It also has great cover art in the UK (linked) and the US (pictured), which is very annoying because it makes me want to own both.

What’s on your nightstand?

 

TIL NEXT MONTH…

Your turn! Read anything good lately? Tweet me, won’t you?

Have a lovely weekend,
Nicola x

Reading Week – BA 0282

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Happy Friday!

I hope you’ll forgive my absence in your inbox last month. I went to Scotland on a 30th birthday pilgrimage of sorts and failed to plan ahead.

I’ve wanted to take a road trip to Skye for years. I’ve seen more of California than I have of Scotland. Evan and I never got around to hiring a car when we lived in Glasgow, through means and circumstances and laziness. But when a friend celebrated her birthday on Lewis, it planted the seed of an idea to do the same thing, a little further south, and invite a few friends to Skye for my 30th. My birthday was in March, but we waited for longer nights, booked the trip and drafted an itinerary. It was the most charmed 4 days – with hikes and whisky and great meals and funny conversations. Evan and I spent 2 days there, followed by another 2 with a few close friends. The weather and the visibility were glorious.

On the way up, I bought John Muir’s book about the Sierra from a Scottish publisher (Canongate) in a Scottish independent bookshop (The Highland Bookshop), and I thought about how lucky I am to be able to split my time between two such spectacularly beautiful places. I love these twin west coasts.

This weekend, we’re heading down to SoCal for a wedding, and had thought to go to Catalina Island, exactly a month after our trip to Skye; but it was too poetic to be.

It’s been awhile. Wanna talk about reading?

EXTREMELY ONLINE

I have the same predicament as Dan Nosowitz – I Don’t Know How to Waste Time on the Internet Anymore. (Also, this makes me feel kind of old.)

‘Like’ if you support my divorce – Jessica Furseth on the weird predicament of sharing those not-so-celebratory life events.

I’ll Just Have a Coffee.

I Think About This a Lot: The Sliding Doors in Sliding Doors. I really like the idea behind this series.

HISTORY & WORD SALAD

At the Talisker distillery in Skye, the guide referred to their peatiness as “half an Islay”, which made perfect sense to me. (If you’re not a whisky drinker, he meant that they use about half as much peat when treating the barley, so the whisky is about half as peaty as, say, Islay’s Lagavulin.) A week later, I read about a remarkable and harrowing piece of Islay’s history as The Scottish island that buried America’s dead. Further viewing here.

A delightful idea from Austin Kleon, via his father-in-law: Clippings.

I loved this gorgeous piece by Julie Sedivy on The Strange Persistence of First Languages.

Do you prefer your dictionaries prescriptive or descriptive? Annotated tracks how a big shift in American dictionaries occurred in The Dictionary War.

I’ve talked your ear off about Eve Babitz on here. She’s been famously reclusive since the nineties, but here’s A rare interview with Eve Babitz, the long sober, cool again author. (If you haven’t been following along with me, start with All About Eve—and Then Some.)

ON MY SHELF

I’ve been nibbling on a smorgasbord of short reads over the past couple of months. The Penguin Modern box set turned out to be a great investment (especially as I got a significant partial refund after I complained about the state and tardiness of its arrival – yass), and I’ve enjoyed gobbling up snippets of Ralph Ellison, Jean Rhys, and Anaïs Nin, to name a few.

I was charmed and creeped out by Andrés Barba’s Such Small Hands. I marvelled over Deborah Levy’s originality in her partial memoir, Things I Don’t Want to Know. Part two, The Cost of Living, is in the post.

Right now, I’m reading Patti Smith’s M Train – a memoir which she released a few years ago. I bought it a few days after we arrived in California after our permanent move, on the same day I realised that many of my childhood favourites and some other books I’d shipped did not arrive with the shredded box. It was meant to cheer me up; instead, it sat on a shelf for over 18 months. Now that I’m finally reading it, I’m glad I saved it for this moment. She drinks coffee, travels, and ruminates over books and art over the course of about a year, with some memories from earlier life thrown in where relevant. It’s exactly the kind of book that I’m in the mood for right now, and I’m loving it.

What’s on your nightstand? Hit reply and let me know (I really do want to hear about it)!

TIL NEXT MONTH…

Your turn! Read anything good lately? Tweet me, won’t you?

Have a lovely weekend,
Nicola x

P.S. In case you’re wondering, the title refers to the flight I’ve taken, and written on customs forms, a dozen times from London to LAX.