The book has been out in the world for nearly a month now and I have no complaints. It’s doing what I hoped it would do. And after months of lead-up, followed by weeks of events and interviews, I think it’s almost ready to keep going on its own. Thank you to everyone who has read, shared, ordered, come to events, sent me nice messages. Launching a book into the world, into this world at this particular time, is not an easy undertaking and I’m grateful for all the support that has come my way.
I have one more book event on Tuesday at Oblong Books in Rhinebeck with the amazing Alyssa Mastromonaco after which I intend to return home to my small, currently hot, apartment and commence what I have come to think of reading woman summer.
When I was a kid I loved all the summer reading programs and contests the local library would run. Some of my happiest childhood memories involve long summer afternoons and me lying in a quiet corner, engrossed in a book. Books Are Magic has set up a Summer Reading Challenge (ostensibly for kids?) and I happily downloaded this card for myself and aim to fill it up by Labor Day. I have not been reading enough these last few months (the irony of spending all your time launching a book, for me at least, is I consume so few myself) and my goal — my only summer goal, in fact, beyond figuring out ways to be useful ahead of November — is reading. Currently on my TBR list is Olivia Laing’s The Garden Against Time (I’m still thinking about Laing’s thoughts here on “why it’s richer to stay in one place”); Sandwich, by Catherine Newman (because Jo recommended it); and Agatha Christie’s The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, because after writing a book with little plot, I’d like to reacquaint myself with one.
Mostly I want to become a reader again. Reading makes my mind feel like it’s putting down roots, being nourished, stretching and deepening at the same time. It’s not until I’m compelled to list all the books I’ve read this year that I realize how few I’ve managed to pick up. And then contemplate how this contributes to a sense of jitteriness. As I’m sure is true for many of you, the last week has been unnerving and upending, and it’s made me want to ground myself. To be still in the way reading requires us to be.
On a podcast interview I did recently for The Bittersweet Life, which should be airing this week, I went on a bit of tirade about people who talk about their escape plan or golden passports or whatever should things go badly here (a way of thinking that, among other things, neglects to recognize that things have been going badly here for many people for a very long time). As a Canadian, I’ve been hearing this for decades. Everyone’s plan to move to Canada if so-and-so gets elected. Lately, this has shifted to the plan to move to Europe, or France, or whatnot. All I hear when people say this is that they a) have likely not actually spent much time in these countries beyond being a tourist and have little idea of the local politics or laws (France is in its own ideological battle at the moment) b) do not fully grasp the role America plays (for better or worse) when it comes to global stability. As if there are going to be stable places to retreat to if America becomes truly unstable (or even more so)? There is no where to go. There is simply to stay and work, or continue the work, toward the world we want.
This may seem small, but reading to me, right now, feels like a some part of that work, even if it’s just retraining my brain to the page. It feels like a commitment to real life. I get the sense I’m not alone in this. Every book event has been packed. Every bookstore has been full. It strikes me that there is a widespread desire to focus on something. To engage instead of to be distracted.
I’d love to know what you all are reading?
Good Decisions:
I guest-edited Air Mail’s Favorite Things this week. I’m a regular Air Mail reader so this was fun and also laughably aspirational at times.
Conde Nast Traveler put ENJOY on their summer reading list. (I appreciate a list when the maker of it has actually read the book: “MacNicol’s poignant writing is the reason I’ve toted the hardcover all over Brooklyn, devouring hilarious lines about both the horror of mid-pandemic New York, and the alternate reality she transports herself to in Paris in the summer of 2021… I’m only halfway through, and I already know it’s my favorite book of this summer.”)
I also penned a quick piece for ELLE about the recent surge in younger man older women relationships we’re seeing on screen (I feel compelled to note that I had nothing to do with the headline).
I talked to the wonderful ladies at Forever35 and, among other things, attempted to give them a breakdown of Fruitz, which is apparently staging a comeback in the Paris metro.
Actually this is more of a programming note: I’m starting to think harder about what I’d like this newsletter to be, and how to dive further into some of the ideas I raised in the book, which means I may start introducing some pay-walled features in the coming weeks.
I recently picked up a stack of books and said, THIS is my summer plan. Yours was in that stack and it was the first one I read to kick it off, and what a start!!
Glynnis get that book cover front and center! It's a riot. I got it on order from the library, where I'll read it, can't bring it home without hiding it : )