Curated

 If I’m scrolling through social media, I rarely play videos. However, I always make an exception for Emmymade.  She’s, in a word, watchable. I’m not superfan enough to know her backstory, but I imagined someone like her when reading Hello Sunshine by Laura Dave.

When this novel opens, Sunshine Mackenzie, host of a viral cooking show, is negotiating a Food Network contract and book deal. However, when someone reveals that her carefully “curated” persona is all a fake, she loses not only her fans, but her job and husband. She reluctantly returns home to a sister who begrudgingly lets her sleep on the sofa. Her niece and a friendly fisherman help her find her way back to forming authentic relationships.

The idea of a crafting a persona came up again in the next book I happened to pick up, Sitting Pretty by Rebekah Taussig. She is, in a word, readable.

“I’m pretty sure I spent more time and energy into curating my profile than any other online dating citizen,” writes Taussig in one of the opening essays. Taussig writes about the complications of people wanting to be kind, and her just wanting to be left alone. For example, she says that explaining to a stranger how to assemble her wheelchair from the front seat of her car takes much longer than if she does it herself, as she has thousands of times. In “Feminist Pool Party” she describes how the feeling of being left out at elementary school slumber parties carries over into her colleagues commiserating over #metoo moments. Many of her essays address the need for accommodations, not just because it will help those who need it, but innovations have the potential of helping everyone. She gives the example of curb breaks which accommodate not only wheelchairs, but makes life easier for street vendors, parents with strollers, or a traveler with a rolling suitcase. With humor and a forthright writing style, Taussig is advocating for change in a world that is, for the most part, oblivious to the need.  

Less scrolling, and more listening, perhaps?

Story Worthy

For Father’s Day this year, I gave my dad a subscription to StoryWorth. Each week he’ll receive a writing prompt to inspire him to write down stories from his life. At the end of the year, all the stories will be printed in book form. This week I learned that since his family never went on long vacations as a child, he wanted to make sure that his own kids experienced that. And we did. Annual camping trips to New Mexico and road trips to both coasts, including Disneyland, were a big part of my childhood summers. We also took trips, like he did, to see family, most notably our trips to Arkansas to visit my grandparents. Here’s a repost from 2011 inspired by those trips.

 When my grandparents lived in Arkansas, we used to make the six hour road trip to visit two or three times a year. Our rewards for that much time in a car were afternoons spent listening to my grandmother's stories, a bag of Snickers in the produce drawer, and a coffee table stacked with magazines. My mom and I would settle in on the sofas catching up on Hollywood gossip and the latest his side/her side drama of the advice columns.

My fascination, some might say morbid curiosity, with marriage (troubled or not) led me to pick up a new novel by Carol Edgarian. In Three Stages of Amazement, we are thrown into the marriage of Lena and Charlie. And from the first paragraph, we are almost certain this marriage can't be saved. His failing startup, a baby with medical issues, and an ex-boyfriend (Italian ex-boyfriend) are but some of the factors pulling their relationship asunder.

The others? Well, you'd be amazed. And you might need a Snickers to get you through it all.

Going Viral

I may have mentioned a few months ago I tried reading Stephen King’s The Stand. Definitely too soon.

Being fully vaccinated, and more than a little hopeful, I was still a little hesitant to open one of the books recommended for this week’s challenge. The Pull of the Stars  by Emma Donoghue, as you might expect, also largely takes place in a room. This time it’s in the maternity ward of a hospital in Dublin set during another pandemic, the Great Flu of 1918. Julia, an experienced nurse, cares for her charges despite the scarcity of supplies. In the midst of the inherent drama and uncertainty of childbirth, Julia finds herself drawn to the volunteer helper who infuses the ward with a different kind of life. An added bonus is the inclusion of propaganda signs that might sound more than a little familiar.

Libby’s algorithm also led me to an older book by Alice Hoffman called At Risk. Set during the height of the US AIDS epidemic of the 1980s, it follows a family living in New England. Polly, the mother, has just taken on a new project, photographing the seances of a local seer. Her husband Ivan is an astronomer who has passed his love of science onto their eight-year-old Charlie. Their daughter Amanda is excited about the prospects of her middle school gymnastics team. When Amanda gets sick, her pediatrician decides to check her for the virus.  When the result comes back positive, friendships, school policies, and her parent’s marriage are also tested.

#vanlife

Thanks to Instagram, my daughter wants to live in a van when she grows up. Turns out it's in her genes.

To educate myself more about her aspirations, I sought out Jessica Bruder’s Nomadland. The book follows several van and RV dwellers through temp jobs , caravans, and conventions.

Many in the nomad community support themselves through seasonal jobs. Amazon actively recruits this demographic to work in their warehouses, bending, lifting, and doing repetitive, mind-numbing work, for around $13 an hour. Another popular option is working as a camp host at campgrounds around the country cleaning latrines, picking up trash, and policing noise.

Between gigs they gather in the desert of Arizona with like minded folks, swapping goods, advising the newbies, making treks to Mexico for cheap dental work and prescriptions, and figuring out how to rig their ride to cook, shower, or pee more efficiently.

In a sense, this lifestyle offers freedom from debt, cutting ties from property ownership, taxes, and storage units. For some this is a choice, but for many others in the book, it’s a last resort solution. As Bruder writes, “The last free place in America is a parking spot.”

Home foreclosures, lost jobs, divorces have set them on this path. For others, affording an apartment near their workplace is impossible. Some have retired, selling their home to fund the first leg of their journey.

Although I haven’t seen the movie inspired by the book, I would like to watch it with my daughter. Either the difficulties of the lifestyle will dissuade her, or its joys will entice her even more. Regardless, this book will be required summer reading.

Sonic Youth

The heat wave in Washington this week (it got up to 84, y’all), reminded me of this post from 2009. It makes me nostalgic, not only for air conditioning, but also because that three year old can now drive herself to Sonic.

The air conditioner in my apartment sucks. This is June in Texas after all. So I pile the kids in the station wagon and drive down the block to Sonic. Rolling down the windows lets in a light breeze tinged with the smell of the afternoon’s tater tots. Moments later our drinks arrive. I unwrap the extra straw to keep the nine-month-old occupied, hand back the strawberry shake to my daughter, and open The Red Convertible.

Louise Erdrich’s collection of short stories is part tart, part sweet, just like the cherry limeade in the cup holder. And I even manage to finish a couple of the stories before my three-year-old pokes a hole in the Styrofoam cup, and we find a use for all those extra napkins.

Looking for more summer reads? Try this list for 2021.

 

“It is written, and once written, things aren’t easily forgotten.”

My sister told me that she’s given up watching or reading anything in which women or children are harmed. After reading The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave, I’m inclined to consider adopting the policy.

Set in the 1600s in a remote village in Norway, The Mercies begins with the aftermath of a storm that decimates the male population. Maren loses her father and fiancée, becoming the provider for her aging mother and brother’s widow. Despite the taboo against women fishing, she begins going out each day with a small group in an effort to keep her family from starving.

Meanwhile, another young woman, Ursa, has just found out she’s been promised in marriage to a Scotsman Absalom Cornet. Absalom and Ursa sail to Maren’s village where he’s to investigate rumors of witchcraft. When investigations turn into accusations, the women must suffer horrors greater even than the ravages of the storm.

Although the events portrayed are indeed gruesome, they aren't gratuitous. Sometimes we have to be reminded of the violence perpetuated in the past to keep us vigilant for the potential threats in our present.

Lila and Hadley

Looking for a book featuring a beloved pet where the pet doesn’t die? Honestly, I wasn’t either until this week’s challenge. But then I wouldn't have discovered Lila and Hadley by Kody Keplinger.

After her mom goes to prison, Hadley goes to live with her older sister Beth. Looking for ways to get her out of the house, Beth takes her to the rescue where she works as a trainer. Although Hadley protests that she’s more of a cat person, she comes across Lila, a morose pit bull. Because Lila perks up when she meets Hadley, they decide Hadley should try her hand at fostering, and with Beth’s help, training.

This middle-grade read would be great for a classroom discussion on anger and forgiveness. And the subplot of Hadley learning to cope with her failing eyesight could also spark a conversation on living with a disability. Or if you have a young animal lover, it could also be an engaging summer read, just for the fun of it.