The Novelist's Hubris

Silent (Picture) Post

Saturday Snaps

It was really wonderful to see the word get around about the release of my essay (see the below post if you haven't read it yet!), and I received some incredibly touching tweets and emails about the subject matter, which is gratifying to say the least.

Some recent news is that, after an unplanned visit to the doctor's on Friday due to a fair amount of pain, an ultrasound revealed that I have an ovarian cyst. I've had one, and possibly two, before, and this one isn't nearly as big (though it may still grow -- hence the ultrasound scheduled for March) as the one that required surgery a few years ago, but I'm doped up and nauseated on painkillers and lying on the sofa all day. And sleeping. A lot.

Things that I've been cherishing, lately: long talks with faraway friends, the return of the ranunculus, which might just be my favorite flower, tempeh "bacon," and my dear, dear heart, whom I live with and love.

 

xo,

Morning Phases

NOTE: Disqus is having a problem in which Typepad blogs appear to have zero comments, even if there are comments. They claim that they're working to fix this -- I'm keeping Disqus because I like it, but hopefully they'll fit the problem soon.

These days I begin to feel fragile at around 6 PM. I'm not sure why. I become very careful about what music I listen to, what movies or television shows I permit myself to watch, what books I read. Sometimes I can't figure out what feels right to do at all. Sometimes I do things and then I regret them.

But the mornings are beautiful, and I'm grateful for them. They take on a rather predictable shape, but I am always astonished by the phases.

From my spot on the couch, where I work and write in the mornings before commuting to work, I have a wide view of the Sutro Tower hill (Twin Peaks) and the houses that surround and are built upon it.

When I came to the living room this morning, still in my slip and ballet wrap, I saw an enormous full moon descending behind the hill, and I watched it go down until it was completely gone.

At around 7 AM everything becomes brighter, the sky turns pale blue, and the sky turns pink-purple at the horizon.

At 7:28-7:30 the hills become the golden orange color that you see in the pictures above.

At 7:35 the hills turn light yellow, and then golden yellow at 7:40.

After that, everything looks completely ordinary. But it stuns me, every single day.

xo,

My At-Home Workspace

I have a beautiful antique desk, but I spend most of my time on the couch, which is a little bit saggy and from the 60s. As a result, the black coffee table next to the couch is where all of my Important Items live: the Studio Choo bouquet, a candle or two, magazines and books, multiple cups (scotch, coffee, or water, depending on what kind of mood I'm in -- sometimes more than one at once), my Levenger notebook, various medications, and my phone.

The desk has become a place to display all of the little knickknacks and bits and bobs that mean so much to me, things that don't deserve to be hidden away in boxes. The pink plastic dog is from Miriam, my brunch buddy and colleague at Michigan; the blue goblet is from Hanna, and is filled with sea and lake glass from around the world; the Beatrix Potter ceramic was a bridal shower present from my gorgeous sister-in-law, who is a zookeeper and goes into the water with alligators, whose love for vintage shopping rivals my own; an antique fork; heavy rhinestone earrings from my in-laws.

I am so glad that I finally live in a place that feels like a home -- like my own -- and recently we received an ivory Icelandic sheepskin, which lies on the floor in front of the bookcase, and I lie on top of it to do savasana and pray.

 

I am so tired, lately, of being dissatisfied with digital cameras, and am retreating into the world of my Contax T2 for as long as I can stand making the journey to various film developing centers around the city. What this means is that there is no immediate gratification, in terms of blogging; if I take a photograph of something one day, it may not appear here for a while. We'll see how that goes.

Right now I'm reading Death in Venice (Mann), which is slim, and I'm contemplating where I ought to buy stockings from, now that Tabio doesn't ship to the U.S. anymore. I've been sleeping on the couch lately because Chris is afraid of catching my cold -- he has a bit of a weak immune system -- and in the mornings I know exactly where I am.

UPDATE:

I've added the Disqus commenting system to TNH in order for me to better respond to your wonderful comments. Sometimes, as with the outpouring of love regarding my grant, it's hard for me to comment on everyone's thoughts individually. Thank you for being such great readers, and I look forward to chatting with you soon!

 

xo,

An Ordinary Moment

Write about a joyful ordinary moment.

We are sitting on the mattress that has no frame and possibly will never have a frame. The mattress' close proximity to the wood floors allows us to eat from a small bowl filled with cornichons while lying in bed with our laptops. As the cornichons dwindle from the bowl, we see the penguins painted inside.

xo,

Christmas: A Snapshot

 
xo,

Healing Things from 2010

 

xo,

Sunday Picture Post: White Dress, Window

I surpassed my goal -- I wanted to have 60,000 words by the end of December, but wound up with around 80,000 (250-ish pages) words by the end of November. And then I realized a few days ago that one of the chapters would have to be overhauled. So word count is actually a silly, mostly arbitrary guideline as to how things are progressing. Two steps forward, three steps back, and all that.

Sunday Picture Post: Brunch

Brunch is such a large part of my relationship with Chris. I used to be the one to make brunch, but now he's primarily taken over, and on weekday mornings I often wake up to have breakfast or brunch there, waiting for me with a hot pot of French press coffee. Pancakes, scrambles, and toast are the usual suspects. I have absolutely no complaints.

xo,

Homebody

I don't have a coherent thought to share today. Fits and starts. A bit of a collaged ramble.

My desk has an amazing view of Sutro Tower. It's essentially right in front of the hill that Sutro Tower is on, and today the sky is clear and I woke up early and had leftover spaghetti from last night (cold -- we don't own a microwave), and eventually showered with my blistered wounded foot sitting in a few inches of soapy water. Both of the photographs today were taken in our bathroom, in fact.

I received a coin purse and a card in the mail today from Anna. She wrote in the card that the coin purse was to celebrate my new job, and that the ladder silkscreened onto the purse symbolized my climbing a career ladder, which I thought was absolutely charming. The best thing about getting mail like that is that it's completely unexpected. I know that I'm beyond fortunate to have friends who do things like that for me.

The second photograph I took because I'd noticed the way the shower liner pressed against the shower curtain, creating a foggy, misty effect.

I'm nervous because tonight I'm being workshopped in my new writing group. I'm familiar with everyone in the group, but today is the first time I'm going to be up for critique. I should be an old hand at this by now, having been in workshops throughout undergraduate and graduate school; still, there's that old fear that someone will say something that cuts you. E. said in class that workshops ought to make us go home and work harder, not throw ourselves under a bus. I've had one or two workshops that made me want to do the latter. Then you pick yourself up, spit on your wounds and keep going.

xo,