I’m having a California moment, to borrow a phrase (but more on that later). Or perhaps it is only a Spring moment.

Although the winters here are much less harsh than the ones at home (not as mild as you’re imagining, mind) I’m still feeling euphoric as the clouds have been swept away and the sunlight is dialling itself up (and up and up and up). The clocks sprang forward last weekend, which is always a nightmare for my body clock, but a dream for the coming months of longer evenings. Love a long day, me.

Another cause for good spirits is my birthday coming up on Sunday. Evan and I are taking a trip to Santa Barbara, where I studied abroad nine (NINE!) years ago, which makes me feel simultaneously ancient and sophisticated. It’s a stunningly beautiful place, and we’re planning on steaks and martinis, seafood and cocktails, walks by the beach, and generally stuffing our faces. You will notice that food takes up three out of four activities on that list. The weather is set to be glorious, and I can’t wait.

Meantime, enjoy these links and have a wonderful weekend.

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INFRACTIONS & DISTRACTIONS

I happened to pick out 2 fun stories from Irish people this week, which I suppose is pretty fitting for St Patrick’s Day, so let’s put those first:

Politics have been characteristically crazy this week, but I had a good giggle at what happened when Amy O’Connor asked every TD in Ireland if they liked Beyoncé.

I also enjoyed Seamus O’Reilly’s Twitter thread about his dad, which starts on the subject on Rock, Paper, Scissors and goes somewhere else entirely.

Back in the Motherland, I’ve been absolutely rapt at this Guardian longread about Operation London Bridge: the secret plan for the days after the Queen’s death. There are many gems, but to top them all, “Some nations have a gift for ceremonial,” the Marquess of Salisbury wrote in 1860. “In England the case is exactly the reverse.”

Meet the woke misogynist by Nona Willis Aronowitz made me feel relieved that I’m not currently dating. She shares her experiences with men who seem to get it but definitely don’t. Weaponised solidarity is one hell of a minefield.

This week in downfalls: Thinx Promised a Feminist Utopia to Everyone But Its Employees. Ouch.

If you’re looking for your next read, check out the Bailey’s Women’s Prize for Fiction Longlist (The Lesser Bohemians was one of my favourite reads of 2016, and Mirror, Shoulder, Signal is at the top of my current wishlist) and the Wellcome Book Prize Shortlist (which includes The Tidal Zone by Sarah Moss, another of my 2016 favourites).

Sorry for the delayed response. We can all relate.

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(ALMOST) ON MY SHELF

I had a couple of books by Eve Babitz on my wishlist for the longest time, just waiting for a nudge from the right place at the right time to inspire me to purchase them. The first nudge came from herpickings, an Instagram blogger whose non-fiction reading tastes are eerily aligned with mine. She raved about Babitz’s books, so I dipped a toe in and bought Slow Days, Fast Company, which I thought was wonderful and effusive and messy – in a good way. I have a few reservations about the book overall, but loved her style, particularly because she’s portrayed as something of an It girl, but has some serious writing chops.

I’ve now had to place my order on her most well-known work, Eve’s Hollywood, which is somewhere between a novel and a memoir, after reading this sonorous piece from Larissa Phan in The Paris Review: Your Own Private Party. I can totally relate to having “a California period” – much of my early 20s were spent awaiting and then relishing in them.

It references a David Hockney view of California which, as well as being in contrast with my own The OC-led view on it, is a painting that Evan and I were admiring the other night. If I’d read this piece when I bookmarked it I’d have missed the reference. But anyway, I also didn’t expect to relate to this gem of a passage:

Lately, the passage of a day alone leaves me bruised. There’s simply too much of everything in the world. I feel as thin-skinned as a plum: quick to abrade and quick to bleed. To fight the feeling I’ve found myself living as though the world might end at any moment – perhaps it may — and I’ve found company in fellow party girl Eve Babitz, who understands that joy really only feels like joy because there’s so much around it that isn’t.

What’s on your nightstand?

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TIL NEXT WEEK…

 
Your turn! Read anything good this week? Hit reply or tweet me, won’t you?

Have a lovely weekend!
Nicola x
 

Oh, hello! Been a while, hasn’t it?

If you were to ask me when I’d last posted I wouldn’t have an answer. I was surprised to see that the date of my last letter came a week before Christmas. I barely remember what I was doing that week, other than preparing for a trip to Mexico. The past 4 months have been something of a blur.

In all honesty, I’d have thought it had been longer. The overwhelm has been real. I didn’t want to stop writing to you but every article seemed to be about states of societal disarray, and every distraction felt like another way to hide from what was going on. The Government is supposed to work quietly and effectively without daily interaction from its people. It is not supposed to take up most of your waking, thinking moments. Yet that’s the reality we’ve all been thrust into. I know there are worse places and situations and regimes to live beneath. But it’s been real.

In the meantime, I was working hard on my new job, on making new connections for my own business, reviving parts of my life while abandoning others. I genuinely thought I wouldn’t write this newsletter again, that I’d give up on blogs and YouTube videos into the bargain. Gradually, I’m coming back to them, and coming back to myself. I’m rediscovering the time that I’d been spending doing a whole lot of nothing: wondering, fretting, and moving matter around on the surface of the earth with no real goal in mind.

Evan and I found a beautiful house, an almost exact fit to our wishlist, with an A-frame and high ceilings, a covered patio, a lovely wee kitchen with granite counters, and even cute little window seats in our adjoining office rooms. I first applied for my visa in December 2016, and everything has felt temporary ever since. It’s been a long series of waits, purges, accumulations and changes; finding new routines and working out new routes; learning to drive instead of walk; working which yoga classes are worth attending and when, where and how to best conduct my daily business. I guess it isn’t surprising that I wasn’t finding an hour to sit at my laptop and reflect on it for the past 8 or 10 weeks. One can only evaluate so much.

I imagine the journey of settling in is far from over, but I have a firm roof overhead, some dependable income, a roadworthy car, support of my in-laws, and even a few promising new friendships beginning to blossom. It’s the most settled I’ve felt for a long while. So I have a little time and energy to write to you, now.

I hope you’re all doing ok too.

So, why don’t we share some links?

 

 

–– HERE, THERE & EVERYWHERE ––

Fariha Roísín, What Makes a Border Be? in Hazlitt is one of the best articles I’ve read this year.

I’ve been reading the recent works of Sarah Manguso (more below) and was pleased to come across Kristen Martin’s call In Praise of the New Aphorism, No Longer Just For Great Men. It also references a great piece on aphorism from Manguso herself in Harpers, titled In Short.

I’ve been backing and following Laura Jones and Heather McDaid’s new venture, 404 Ink, with interest. The Skinny featured their upcoming book, Nasty Women, an anthology of essays that earned the backing of Margaret Atwood and 3x its Kickstarter funding goal.

How to End a Memoir Without Getting Married. Leigh Stein investigates a dark art.

Karan Mahajan asks, Is Travel Writing Dead? I sincerely hope not.

Tom Gauld’s The Life-Changing Magic of Decluttering in a Post-Apocalyptic World made me giggle.

 

–– ON MY SHELF ––

I finished the Neapolitan novels by Elena Ferrante at last / already! It seemed to go on a bit towards the end, but maybe it’s just because I read the final 3 over the course of a couple of months. I have some minor issues with it, but most of the time when I begin to criticise a point or technique I end up advocating for her use of it, so colour me impressed. It’s an expansive series, one that focuses intensely on some key points in time while sweeping over others. Sometimes, as the final book drew to a close, it felt like an extended denouement. But, miraculously, she manages to paint the characters and interactions of an entire town with the level of detail you’d find in epic fantasy, and combines that with the verisimilitude of a life in action. Every seemingly minor exchange or situation finds its way back to her in the end.

I’ve been hopping around from book-to-book since then. I’m forever picking up a non-fiction book, reading 20-50 pages, then putting it down for 2 weeks. Some highlights of the recent weeks include On Immunity by Eula Biss (her clarity of thought is extraordinary), Slow Days, Fast Company by Eve Babitz (so much more than the Hollywood bimbo writer her image projects), and the aforementioned 300 Arguments by Sarah Manguso, which I plan to re-read very soon.

Currently on the docket: the highly conflicting Why I Am Not a Feminist by Jessa Crispin (can we stop rush-printing books like this already? PLEASE?), Mark Fisher’s Capitalist Realism (I read 20 pages 2 weeks ago and kind of can’t bear to go back to it), and Nora Ephron’s Crazy Salad and Scribble Scribble on audiobook, which is funny and mostly soothing.

What’s on your nightstand?
 

 

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Your turn! Read anything good this week? Hit reply or tweet me, won’t you?

Have a lovely weekend!
Nicola x