Summer Reading

One of my priorities for this time in Oxford is to catch up on real reading: not blogs, not Twitter, not Gawker, but real books, damn it. Usually if I am going through a drought in my writing, it is because I have not been reading enough. So here's the first round of books I pulled out and stacked on my windowsill:

Big World by Mary Miller - Compact but powerful short stories. This was the first book I read here--devoured alongside a dinner of oysters, beet salad, and the biggest pour of Macallan's I have ever been served in a bar. Here is the typically strong opening to "My Brother in Christ":


"You're wearing Coco Chanel," he says to the girl at the bar. She was watching him. They all watch him. The pills he takes makes this pleasant, like he's a scuba diver and they're a school of fish. 

The Delivery Man by Joe McGinniss Jr. - This was the second book I read here, finishing it in the charmed setting of the balcony at Square Books. The author (son of THAT Joe McGinniss, yes) sought the help of Bret Easton Ellis to shape the manuscript, and the influence shows. But I liked it, and I thought there were some really interesting craft techniques at work. When this book came out, my friend Mark Athitakis did a great interview with Joe for the Washington City Paper; you can read it here. 

Letters from the Emily Dickinson Room by Kelli Russell Agodon - "My husband asks for a poem. / I have many, but none // to share." I have a feeling reading this is going to make me want to write poems, and that's so exciting. 


The Little Office of the Immaculate Conception by Martha Silano - One of the only books I went to the AWP Conference determined to buy. Her work always has great energy and lush detail of color and taste; her voice just hollers from the page. 

Native Son by Richard Wright - I'm embarrassed to have never read this.

History of a Suicide by Jill Bialosky - I've heard this is great, but I confess that I'm steeling myself to tear up more than once. Jill is my editor at Norton, just a lovely woman, so I know her story of losing a sister will hit me hard, especially as someone with a fiercely loved sister of my own.

Tourist in Hell by Eleanor Wilner - When Eleanor Wilner came to Cafe Muse, I was dumbstruck by how good her work was. I've been reading it on the pages of POETRY for a while now, so I don't know why I had never thought to get a collection before. 

If you're looking for something for your summer reading list, my friend Carolyn Parkhurst's third novel--The Nobodies Album--is coming out in paperback. I heard her read from it at Square Books last summer and bought two copies: one for myself, one for the shelves of Grisham House. Here's her very funny "trailer" for the book:

Poetry in Motion

Friends know that my daily walk often takes me through the National Zoo, where as of late I've become fascinated with the aviary. One of the things I love is rediscovering animals that had been reduced to flat icons in my head--e.g., the peacock--as living, unpredictable, and slightly haughty creatures. We all know what the feathers look like from the front...but did you ever think about what they look like from the side? From the back? Me neither. I'll be spending the next couple of days driving to Mississippi, but I think I might have left my heart with this peacock in DC.

Booklist-ed

In their June 1 issue, Booklist offers a lovely and descriptive review for DKTBG:


Don't Kill the Birthday Girl: Tales from an Allergic Life.

Beasley, Sandra (Author)

Jul 2011. 240 p. Crown, hardcover, $23.00. (9780307588111). 362.196.

Imagine a birthday cake made without dairy products or eggs. That’s what highly allergic author Beasley faces every year—hence her friends’ and relatives’ constant refrain, “Now, don’t kill the birthday girl.” As she notes, she’s hardly alone: more than 12 million Americans have been diagnosed with food allergies. She worries about whether she’ll add to that tally when she gives birth. Her book is full of interesting (and potentially lifesaving) tidbits: Play-Doh contains wheat. Tempera paints often contain egg. Moisturizing soap may contain soy proteins or cashew oil. Borden used to make Elmer’s glue with a milk derivative, casein. And French fries are a good choice for the highly allergic. (There are no hidden nuts, dairy, or eggs in them.) People with wheat allergies need to be careful at communion: A decade ago, Boston’s Roman Catholic Church affirmed its decree that rice-based wafers were an unacceptable substitute for the regular wheat-based variety. This information- and anecdote-filled book will be a welcome antidote to the worries and fears endured by families with food allergies.  — Karen Springen  

One thing I've loved about these advance reviews is seeing people respond to the research as well as the personal anecdotes. Though I wanted it to be a fun read, I wanted it to have nonfiction substance as well; a sense of "wow, I didn't know that." Maybe it's the teenage nerd in me but I'm fascinated by the medical dimension, the science at work. And I needed to incorporate the stories of others. Though food allergies are incredibly widespread, each individual's experience of allergies--between one's particular combination of allergens, the timeline of how they were discovered, and the style of physical reaction--is as unique as a thumbprint. 

Booklist is published by the American Library Association. (See that weird number after the ISBN, "362.196"? That is the Dewey Decimal coding for the section of books that offer "Services to patients with specific diseases.") I've written about my love for public libraries before, and I hope my book lands on shelves across the country. Sometimes people say they'd like to support my work, but they don't have the money to buy books right now. Hey, I write for a living. I completely understand empty-wallet syndrome. But if you can, ask your local library to order the book (my book, or books by other authors you love). That's truly a gesture that keeps on giving. 


What I like to imagine: a woman walks into the Tysons Pimmit regional branch (the library by my family's house in northern Virginia)--finds a plastic-slip-covered copy on the "New Release" shelf--and picks it up so she can tuck it into her summer tote bag. Maybe she's the mother of a kid with allergies. Maybe she's looking for a twist on her usual "food history" reading (Cod, Salt, The Zen of Fish). Maybe she couldn't resist the cupcake on the cover. For whatever reason, the woman I have been checks out a book by the woman I have become. This is my dream.