Reading, Writing, Ranting, Recommending

June 19, 2024

Hi there. Where have I been? I am…not sure. Life has been busy, and I was supposed to be on a writing residency in the Midwest, but alas, life had to life, so for REASONS, I am writing to you from home. In better news, this edition is super long and has a bonus because your girl has MUCH TO SAY.

The good news is that we are living on summer time now, friends. If you’re friends with me in real life, you’ve undoubtedly heard me refer to Summer Amy and Bummer Amy (Bummer Amy is my School Year Self, where I have a strict bedtime and lots of meetings and work) and we have officially entered the reign of Summer Amy.

Summer Amy is the same as Bummer Amy, with fewer meetings, no grading, and behaves in a way that is slightly less uptight. 10 PM bedtime instead of 9 PM. Sometimes.

Reading

My favorite thing about summer is that I get to read as much as I want. Okay, not as much as I want, but A LOT. I’ve developed a reading routine this summer that I hope will benefit me as a writer, too (do I ever turn off the English teacher/MFA student brain, you ask? NOPE!).

I like to get up in the morning (still early — not the 4:30 AM of Bummer Amy, but somewhere in the neighborhood of 6:30 AM), do my morning things, and then settle in for reading and writing time. Right now, I’m reading a poetry book and a craft book, and then finishing my reading time by alternating between reading fiction and nonfiction. Currently, my books are:

Poetry: Survival Takes A Wild Imagination, by Fariha Róisín

Before I even began reading the poems, I’d decided I wanted to get part of the epigraph tattooed on me, so that was an auspicious beginning. Then, the book's first poem made me cry, and I wrote half of it down. I highly recommend this book and can already tell I will be returning to it again and again. I’ve already requested the rest of her catalog from the library.

Craft: The Art Of Fiction by John Gardner

It’s good so far, I guess? The first chapter took a long time to say that the best writers know the rules, but the better ones know how to trust their own instincts in their art, but he used a lot of examples from books I don’t plan to go back and read (my 41-year-old brain has rotted too far to go back and ponder Homer and Dante, sorry!!!) to say it. I guess I’ll have to trust him!

I wasn’t sure where I’d gotten this book; however, someone recommended it to me in conversation recently, and then I recalled buying it in undergrad, and it reminded me of one of my earliest collegiate writing experiences.

I have been writing since forever, but at the end of college, I decided to become A Very Serious Writer, which mostly meant carrying around a Norton’s Anthology, smoking (well, trying to; I was/am a poser), and writing the worst poems you’ve never read, because thankfully, I threw away.

Anyway, at one point, I was just a wee 20-year-old English major and taking a fiction writing seminar from a professor who was a true egomaniac. Once, instead of giving me feedback on a story, HE JUST RIPPED IT IN HALF!!!!!! IN FRONT OF THE CLASS!!!!

To be fair, I did think my story was extremely deep because I used a Don Henley lyric (you should know that I have secondhand embarrassment tears coursing down my face as I write this, and no, I WILL NOT BE SHARING THE DON HENLEY LYRIC) as a short story title, but I was 20. While I’m sure the story was no masterpiece, COME ON, PROFESSOR ASSCLOWN, WE WERE ALL A BUNCH OF WANNABES.

Another person in my workshop (his name was Graham, and I considered him my nemesis for reasons I can no longer recall, but I am positive they are still valid; SCREW YOU GRAHAM! He wore a newsboy cap, and I hope he has never published A WORD!) wrote a story that began with an extremely graphic scene of a “bad dad” type enjoying some ALONE TIME whilst watching “Girls Gone Wild.” He then flashed back to his troubled relationship with his daughter, who, in the present day, was exhibiting some “promiscuous” behavior. For whatever reason, we were workshopping that story live (for obvious reasons, I dissociated from my own live workshop experiences), and my professor said, “If this story ends with this man seeing his daughter on screen, I’m going to light this story on fire and end class early.”

Class finished about two minutes later (just like Bad Dad, I assume, HEY OH!) with Graham’s paper AFLAME and held aloft by our professor, who lit it on fire as soon as Bad Dad saw his daughter’s boobs on screen (I have many, many questions, mainly HOW DID HE KNOW THEY BELONGED TO HIS DAUGHTER?!?!?!). Thankfully, the world will never know (at least, we hope! Up yours, GRAHAM, ya perv!).

Fiction

I’m getting ready to start Miranda July’s All Fours which every single Substack I read has raved about. Sadly, my dog (Olive!) ate my breakfast and then vomited it up all over my rug four times so I didn’t read it as I was busy dry heaving. Tomorrow!

READING BONUS!

Many friends have asked me lately what they should read on vacation or during the summer because they’ve been in a reading slump. I HEAR YOU. I made you a cute little graphic for what I think you should be reading this summer to get you out of said slump:

Feel free to pin this and catapult me to fame or whatever…

Writing

I’m currently in reset mode. I finished my MFA semester, including my thesis about the use of speculation in nonfiction! Three down, two more to go!

I’ve been listening to Tiago Forte’s book Building A Second Brain, which I can’t say I recommend (or that I will listen to all the way through, because not to be rude or dismissive, but I feel like I got the basic idea of it from the summary, sorry!) The basic idea is to keep notes on what you find compelling when you read or listen to something. I started a page in my Notion (if you want to hear me talk about something for 30 minutes minimum, ask me about NOTION, omg) where I’ve been taking notes on books, and I’ve been doing just that: taking notes on what I like and what caught my attention. It’s nice, and I know it will be useful. I’ve tried innumerable methods to keep track of things I’m reading and recall lines I liked and typing them into Notion is working well.

I’m also keeping a bunch of essay and story ideas and notes for the novel I’ve been half writing in my brain and through the short stories I’ve written this semester. I feel excited about it. I have some work out on submission (still in purgatory on the book proposal, but things are happening; I’ll take your good vibes!), but I’m excited to move into a new phase of work. It’s exciting to open my new little Google Docs, see seeds of new pieces, and feel excited about them.

Ranting

For most of my adult life, I’ve lived in Sacramento. Not in a suburb, but the city proper (Midtown, for locals). Two-ish years ago, we moved to a smaller area that is still within the city itself but is a neighborhood neighborhood with many kids and families and zero coffee shops or restaurants within walking distance. I love my house and the quiet, and while I miss being closer to “the action,” let’s face it: I don’t drink, I hate noise, and I don’t like to be out after dark, so this is my speed.

The PROBLEM is that we live extremely close to a baseball field. Without getting too specific, we live in a location that is extremely convenient for baseball parents to park near the field. There are people parking in front of my home 24/7 for practices, games, championships, parades, league parties, and god knows what else. I don’t mind! I live on a public street in a charming area!

What I DO MIND is that many, many of these people feel comfortable blocking my driveway. I mean, fully blocking, the way you do when you park at the home in which you reside, because you know that no one else is leaving. Sometimes, it’s just a few inches; however, sometimes, it’s a few inches on BOTH SIDES. Other Amy and I both drive small-ish cars, but there have been occasions where we cannot get into or out of our driveway.

Today, I was getting ready to go do a Target pick-up when a very kind older woman was going to park and block half my driveway. I (gently, politely) explained that she was blocking it, and she sassily told me that she’d lived in <my neighborhood> for years, and now her three sons do, and her grandson was “on the mound” for the Under-12 Bumblebees or some such, and I was like MY GIRL, I DO NOT GIVE ONE FLYING RIP ABOUT THE U-12 BUMBLEBEES, MY TARGET ORDER AWAITS. She acted like I was pure evil for expecting her to move because “when her sons were playing, everyone who lived in the neighborhood understood how important <neighborhood> baseball was.” Tell someone else your story, Granny, I’ve got washcloths to organize in my new bin!!!!

Respectfully, I understand that kids’ sports are important…TO THE PARENTS AND KIDS ONLY. This is neighborhood baseball. It’s not even TRIPLE-A BALL. The lengths these people go to: the painted windows “I’M THAT LOUD BASEBALL MOMMY CHEERING ON #34” and “MY HEART IS PLAYING SHORTSTOP, GO BUBBS!” and “GO JAX, SWING BATTA SWING!” and the coolers as if they’re going on a ten-day camping trip and the loads of gear! Someone unpacked their trash on my lawn last weekend and I WATCHED THEM DO IT AND THEY STILL DROVE AWAY!!!!!! I hope the snack bar ran out of hot dogs just when they were about to order! May their popsicles be pre-melted in perpetuity and may their licorice be stale!

I’ve left notes on cars (you can ask Other Amy, the nicest, most gentle reminders, which I know is shocking but I swear on everything I HAVE BEEN PATIENT) and I’ve emailed the league a few times to say, “Hi there, if you could please remind your families not to block driveways that would be appreciated! Thanks so much! Sorry for existing and needing to leave my home! I apologize for being alive!” and still! Moreover, I’ve had people just…block the entrance to my street and chit-chat or shoo me away because “there’s no parking” and had to explain that I LIVE THERE I HAVE A DRIVEWAY MOVE YOUR TRUCK! Children dart out at all hours!

I need the season to end. Or for people to remember that while their child’s neighborhood sports league lights up their life, the thing that sparks joy for me is being able to leave my home (okay, fine, not really, BUT I WANT THE OPTION).

Recommending

This Target sunscreen. The perimenopausal hormones have leached all moisture from my skin, so I need a sunscreen that doesn’t dry me out.

This sunscreen keeps me moisturized and protects me from my enemy, THE SUN. I love it so much. No white cast (it’s not a mineral one, sorry y’all), but it’s effective, and did I mention, not drying and non-comedogenic? Love it.