I Can't Write Away From Home

I'm back home after spending most of April out of town. I made three separate trips. On the first trip I did what I usually do and brought writing stuff with me. I left my computer at home but I brought along a three inch binder that holds the draft of the big thing I'm working on, imaging I would use the four hour plane ride to get some good editing done. Right.

I can't count the number of times I've done something like that. And I never manage to get any good writing done. Even when I went to Norway three years ago and did nothing but watch beautiful scenery go by I couldn't get myself to do any writing. I reread Absalom, Absalom instead.

The most I can expect of myself is to make a few notes to use at another time, take photos of interesting buildings (see earlier post), and keep up with my journal.

I do well on writing retreats -- like the one I have coming up next week -- when the entire purpose of being away from home is to write. But other than that, I guess I'm overwhelmed by taking in images and ideas. Maybe I'll make use of all of that another time for my writing. At least that's what I tell myself.

Being on the road so much has made my resolution of reading less unattainable. I read on planes, I read waiting for planes, I read waiting for my travel companions to get ready in the morning. I'm back up to my normal ten books a month pace and I have an enormous stack of things I want to read. I'm taking an advanced memoir workshop and each time I go to class I emerge with a long list of more books I want to read. But I guess there are worse vices.

Blue Bottle Coffee

It takes a lot for me to walk away from a Peet's Coffee and go to the place down the hall instead. But Blue Bottle Coffee at the Ferry Building in San Francisco is a reason to do so. I was so happy to see that the company had moved from its ramshackle outside temporary spot to a real space inside the building. And the coffee is just as good -- strong, creamy and so lovingly made. And different size cups depending on what you order. We had a complete Goldilocks and the Three Bears collection with the biggest cup coming with my cappuccino, the middle size with my husband's macchiato and the tiniest with my son's espresso.

Candles

I went to the first meeting of my advanced memoir seminar at UCLA today. It was a hot, beautiful day -- just like the best of summer.

Afterwards I went to Candle Delirium on Santa Monica Boulevard in West Hollywood. My supply was getting low so I restocked some of my favorites. I pretty much always have a lit candle on the desk when I write. I'm not sure why. But it's such an ingrained habit that now the scent triggers the desire to work so is almost a necessary part of the process if I'm trying to work at home.

My take today includes French Tulip by Seda France, Yma by Tocca (old favorites), Mandarin Guava by Archipelago and Pink Peony by Aquiesse. I feel the need for the smell of spring flowers (since the cats won't allow me to have actual flowers in the house).

Fantasy Shelfmates

When I go to a bookstore, after browsing the tables in the front where the new releases are, I go to the fiction section. I'm not sure if I like it when this part of the store is called "literature" or even "fiction/literature". Who decides what belongs there? If the only choice is "literature" where do they put the Sophie Kinsella books?

The reason I go to the section is to engage in day-dreaming. If -- when -- if I ever publish a novel, where would it be on the shelf? Would I be on a top shelf? Near the back of the store in poor light? And who would be on either side of me? I'm always happy when my imaginery space is right between Flannery O'Conner and John O'Hara.

Who Will Live Here?

I take pictures of houses that a character might live in someday. This house is in the east 50's in New York and I liked the combination of the lemon yellow wood house against the flowering tree.

I started doing this about a year ago. I bought an inexpensive small point and shoot that I can carry in my purse and I take pictures of all sorts of things -- a breakfast a character might eat, a corner he or she might pass by, a bouquet of flowers she might be given. I gather the photos into files that make no sense to anyone but me.

I also scour the web for images that match something I am working on. When I am far enough into a project to print out pages to review in hard copy I spend a lot of time looking for the image that I want to put on the cover of the binder. My working binder of things that are "finished" -- meaning that they are pieces I don't mind letting people look at if they ask what I've been up to -- has a black and white photo of a dancer in rehearsal with a messy bun and a white tutu under a stretched out sweater. I was so happy when I found it because that's always how I feel when someone reads something I've written: only half-dressed and partly prepared for the scrutiny.

English 201 - Again and Again and Again

I have visited 14 colleges in the last ten days, acting as cicerone for my son and his friend as they begin their college search. Some I have been to before, some were new to me. I found my mind wandering as the admissions people described the academic approaches of the particular school and after a while all of the residential options sounded the same to me.

I focused instead on architecture -- trying to articulate to myself the differences between gothic, Beaux Artes, high Victorian, New England stone and New England brick.

But there was one constant. Every chance I got I picked up a course catalog and flipped to the English department. I mostly skipped through the intro courses to get to the meat of it. OK -- show me what you got. A seminar on feminism in the Harlem Renaissance, another on women in Faulkner, another on Updike, Cheever and Roth. I felt my heart beating faster, I could see the pile of clean, fresh books I'd need to buy, I could anticipate the useless notes I would take during class and wanted to know what secrets the professors would unfold for me.

I started to plan out curriculum in my mind. I considered the order in which I'd take classes. But there were too many. I'd never had time to take them all in just four years.

I experience all over again my disbelief and joy when I realized I could get a degree just for reading books. And I'm so glad that it looks like you can still do that.

Packing for a Trip

I leave tomorrow for a trip to the east coast. I haven't even gotten my suitcase out of the closet, but I've been creating a pile of potential books for the trip for more than a week.

There is an art to finding the perfect balance of reading matter for a trip. I need something light and engaging but not insulting for the plane, but I usually like to have something a little more solid too just for a change. The trip will be busy so I won't have much reading time, but I will have the odd half hour here and there to read before going to sleep or while having a cup of coffee in a cafe. In recent years I've even started to bring books that I know I can leave behind when I'm done, so I don't need to worry about carrying them home. And of course I need to remember that I will undoubtedly buy books along the way, especially when I will be visiting 14 -- yes 14 -- college campuses, all of which will have enticing bookstores.

So what's in the pile at the moment?

"Wilderness Run" by Maria Hummel. Novel about a group of Vermonters during the Civil War. I'll be taking a seminar with Hummel in May so I really wanted to read this. I am almost done so I'm not sure if I will bring it with me. Maybe I will try to finish it today?

"Hotel du Lac" by Anita Brookner. I've been wanting to reread this for a long time and it keeps getting pushed down further in the pile. Maybe this will be a good alternate for the plane?

"The Glass Castle" by Jeannette Walls. Perfect for the plane.

"The New York Stories of Edith Wharton" -- thematic for trip. But I don't know if short stories will be right for a trip when I don't know how much reading time I will have. There's nothing worse than needing another ten minutes to finish a short story and not getting it.

"Tin House - Fantastic Women" -- I'm not very familiar with Tin House but I may be attending their workshop this summer so I want to spend some time with this.

"Mrs. Astor Regrets" by Meryl Gordon. Another thematic book for the trip.

"The Observations" by Jane Harris. Looks like fun.

"The Queen of the Tambourine" by Jane Gardam. This one has been waiting for a special occasion. Maybe it will be for the plane ride home.