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#it's not like it's uncommon for people to hate bennett. and he's one of the most broken units in the game
bubble-tea-bunny · 3 years
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dive into you
[bennett x reader]
author’s note: lil fic for bestest boy benny inspired by the song by nct dream and the summer season :’)
word count: 3,600
There’s a bakery opposite of Angel’s Share, just across the cobblestone road, and every morning the smell of freshly baked bread wafts from its open double doors, ready to welcome patrons and the crisp air of the early hours. Bennett has easily fallen into the routine of making this his first stop of the day. When he wakes, eyes slow to open and greeted by little squares of light on the ceiling of his bedroom from the sunlight shining through the window, he swears he can already smell that bread and the pastries and the care put into each one. He doesn’t often find it in him to be lazy, to be sluggish this early, for a new day was a new promise of adventure, and whether he’s swept along by the wind to the wilds or to the bakery, it’s an adventure all the same.
He always picks out food for his dads. He considers carefully what they might like to have (some prefer to have the same each time, others don’t mind the variety and like to be surprised), and carefully, slowly he fills the tray. Usually it isn’t busy during the time he’s there, but he doesn’t want to take risks as he holds it securely with both hands whenever he’s perusing the selection. Even if there were no people to bump into, with his luck, he might bump into one of the displays in the middle of the shop instead, consequence of paying more attention to the shelves against the wall where there are loaves baked into fun shapes like fish or crabs, rather than to what’s in front of him. He’d hate to drop everything on his tray and waste it.
Sometimes the bakery keeps the doors closed, and while uncommon, it’s nothing unusual. On these occasions, the entry of each customer is announced by the small bell jingling just overhead. It’s the only sound in the shop, ringing several times in the past ten minutes but it’s mere background noise, easily ignored, as Bennett absorbs himself in choosing what to buy today.
“Good morning!”
Bennett’s hand freezes just above a loaf of bread that looks like a bear and he glances behind him to the counter because the sound of your bubbly voice, conversely, is much more difficult to ignore. Though to be fair, to him, you’re no mere background noise.
You’re carrying a basket of more loaves just taken from the oven, half of them regularly shaped into circles and the other half like turtles, and grin at the customers who have just walked in. He watches you make your way over to a shelf several feet away from him to arrange the bread, and he stares long enough that you’ve taken notice. Your smile is bright and reaches your eyes, and he’s embarrassed to have been caught. His cheeks grow warm and you can probably see the dusting of red across his face, a speculation which doesn’t help alleviate this embarrassment one bit.
“Good morning, Bennett,” you greet him, more quietly since he’s closer.
He likes when you say his name, and it never fails to make his heart skip a beat and he stutters out an O-Oh, um… as if surprised that you’re talking to him, much less that you know who he is. It shouldn’t take him off guard that you know, considering how often he comes to the bakery, so he supposes it has more to do with the fact that he can’t believe his name should be spoken by a voice as gentle as yours, honeyed tones like the softly plucked notes of the Holy Lyre der Himmel.
Finally he musters an equally quiet Good morning in response, smiling back but he’s certain it looks more like a cringe, owed to his nerves. If it does, you don’t point it out, and simply return to your task. Only when another patron comes up to Bennett’s other side, muttering a pardon as they grab a loaf from the shelf he’s standing in front of, does he break his gaze from you. His hand that had been hovering above the bread that whole time he drops back down to his side, and he scoots to make room with another stutter and a sorry.
You’re back behind the counter when Bennett is ready to pay. The pile of bread, cake slices, sandwiches, and other miscellaneous pastries had in the past led you to ask him if these were snacks for the road, for you’d guessed him to be an adventurer doing commissions for the guild by the sword at his side. He’d chuckled and explained his actual purpose for buying as much as he did, and your grin had widened, and if he wasn’t imagining things, you’d been extra careful when packing every treat.
I’m sure they’ll really appreciate your gesture, you’d said. That’s sweet of you. And it’s not frequently that events in the course of his life run smoothly, but that day they had, and with no falter in his words he remarks it’s thanks to you, for you’re the reason there’s anything to bring back to his dads in the first place. You’d laughed and his chest tightened and he thinks that’s the point where he started to fall (to where, he hesitated to state exactly). But in any case, it was true—without you, there was no bakery filled to the brim with delicious food, and if he had anything to say about that, Mondstadt would be worse off for it.
This morning, Bennett is digging around his wallet for the appropriate amount of Mora while you pack what he’d picked out. Having gone through this process many times prior, he knows approximately how much it should cost.
“Ah—”
A few coins slip from his hand and clatter to the wooden floor, and he bends to pick them up. But on the way down, his head knocks into the tray that he neglected to push all the way onto the countertop, so part of it still stuck out. You blink in surprise at the jostling of the tray and his subsequent Ouch!, muffled because he’s obscured by the counter.
“Are you okay?” You sound genuinely worried, but to Bennett the accident had been no big deal. At least none of the food had fallen.
“Yeah,” he assures you. He’s still trying to gather up the stray Mora, fingers failing to get a proper grip on them and he huffs in slight exasperation. His face once more is burning from the embarrassment of being so clumsy. He’s clumsy around everyone, and it’s something he has long since come to accept, but it matters a lot more when it’s you.
Finally he stands back up, the money clutched in his fist victoriously. “Yeah!” he repeats now that you can hear him clearly. “It’s no big deal.”
For a second you don’t quite believe him, but it’s hard to argue with that smile on his face. There’s no pain he’s trying to hide (embarrassment, on the other hand, is a different issue entirely).
Upon handing him his package you tell him you’ll see him tomorrow and he feels sort of special because you don’t say it to anyone else. To others, you say Thank you, come again! but you know his routine and you know to expect him at the same time each morning. Judging by the look in your eyes and the sound of your voice when you see and greet him, you anticipate his visit every time, and his heart wants to soar out from the confines of his chest upon this realization and he is exhilarated. The wind and the new day have fulfilled their promise of an adventure, and the clock hasn’t even struck noon.
One day you’re a little distracted, focused on a paper in your hand as Bennett approaches the counter with his tray of baked goods. For the most part, your face gives nothing away, but then your brows furrow slightly, a subtle action he doesn’t miss, and he proceeds to ask if anything is wrong. He asks it kindly, keeps his tone neutral, wordlessly conveying that you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. He would hate to pry.
You purse your lips, pausing like you’re caught between saying yes and no. He waits patiently for whichever one it might be.
“I ran out of sugar and had been meaning to make more,” you start, opting to share with him what’s been troubling you.“I bought out Flora’s stock of sweet flowers but it wasn’t enough, so I may have to set aside time to pick more myself later.”
The mention of heading outside of the city makes Bennett perk up, for he never turns down a chance to go exploring. He’s about to offer to do it for you, but it’s the thought of possibly going with you instead that makes him hold back and rephrase his question.
“This afternoon?” he inquires, head tilting. You nod, and up until now he’d felt confident in the offer he was going to present, but then his nerves get the better of him and it doesn’t come out quite the way he was hoping. “I-I could go with you! You know, if you want! To protect you… Just in case…” He trails off and he wants to go hide in a hole. There are few other ways this could have gone worse.
You don’t answer right away, and he regrets having said anything at all, but your beautiful smile soon follows the silence and it sets his mind at ease, and you agree with a concise and cheery Sure! Well, at least the worst way this could have gone had not come to pass. It was the small victories for Bennett—just as important as the big ones. The next challenge would be to avoid making a fool of himself out there, in what should be his natural element; he does want to impress you. But that’s a big ask for someone like him…
Both of you agree to meet at the front gate in the late afternoon. By then, the traffic in the bakery is slow enough that you’re able to step away earlier than the normal closing time. You’ve changed into clothes more appropriate for walking around: in lieu of a dress, your typical work attire, you sport a tunic and trousers you don’t mind dirtying. The trousers are tailored to fit properly but the tunic is a tad big, the sleeves a bit too long, but Bennett thinks you look cute in it. A basket hangs on your forearm and you wave as you walk up to him.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting too long,” you say.
Bennett shakes his head. “Not long at all.” Technically the agreed upon meeting time was only five minutes ago, so you aren’t very late. Though he does refrain from sharing that he’d arrived early, in fear that he could end up late somehow and you would be the one who had to wait. Really, it’s been more like fifteen minutes for him, but he just keeps quiet about that.
One of the nice things about summer is that the sun sets later. There’s still a sufficient amount of light to illuminate the fields as you walk around in search of sweet flowers. At first, the extent of your conversation is discussing where you might be able to find a high concentration of them, then silence filled with the sifting of grass beneath your shoes and the occasional exclamation of having spotted a flower to be picked and tucked away in your basket.
Honestly, walking with you around the wilds of Mondstadt hadn’t been anywhere on Bennett’s list to do today, or any day really, not until he could muster the courage to invite you out like this, and who knew when that might be. Your need for sweet flowers had dropped the opportunity right into his lap, and thankfully he hadn’t squandered it. But now he’s at a loss as to what to talk about; he didn’t think he’d ever get this far.
Maybe you sense his struggle to come up with a topic of conversation because you’re the one to speak up, asking about his adventures and the commissions he takes. Done anything exciting recently?
Bennett’s eyes light up, a reaction which you can't help but smile at, and he regales you of the goings-on of his latest missions. He omits the instances where his clumsiness had made things more difficult (of which there were many), but each story is still truthful. Most of his commissions the past month hadn’t been anything too bold—after a mission that involved nearly getting himself trapped in a ruin due to solving a puzzle wrong then getting food poisoning on top of that from the snack he’d prepped that day, he’s been choosing jobs that he knows he’s more capable of.
To him, they aren’t too exciting, and in the larger scope of things, perhaps they aren’t, but you don’t seem to think that as you hang on each word. You’re absorbed in his story about trying to dismantle towers in a hilichurl camp, and gasp at the mention of their reinforcements coming to attack in the midst of it. Wow, you remark after he finishes his recounting of the event. You’re amazing, Bennett!
His heart does a flip again at the sound of his name and he shrugs offhandedly. He’s not inclined to think so, but your awed comment is sincere and has him reconsidering: yeah, that was pretty cool of him, wasn’t it? For all his clumsiness, he doesn’t often see the feats for what they are, accompanied by blunders or not, but you’re the fresh perspective he’d been missing, and he wishes you’d stepped into his life sooner.
The entirety of your outing together has thus far been free of any monsters, but as soon as Bennett makes this observation it’s like the universe has heard: hydro slimes suddenly pop out from the ground, halting you in your tracks. You squeak in surprise and Bennett is quick to shift into a fighting stance, knees slightly bent and one arm out in front of you protectively.
“Just stay there!” he instructs before drawing his sword and rushing forward.
Luckily there aren’t many slimes to fight off, and they aren’t very big. His sword cuts through them easily, cleanly. They burst and spray water upon being sliced apart, so at the end, when they’re all dead, the only evidence they had been there to begin with is the slight dampness to his clothes and the squish of dirt turned to mud. With a sigh of triumph, Bennett resumes a relaxed stance, then sheathes his weapon and turns to you.
As instructed, you’ve stayed in place, but it seems to have been more out of being frozen in fear than anything else. You’re clutching your basket close, and once the slimes are gone, you follow Bennett’s lead and relax, shoulders releasing the tension they had been filled with for the duration of that fight. You let out a deep exhale of relief, hand placed over your heart which has yet to slow back down to its normal pace.
“Thank you.”
Bennett flashes a toothy grin and waves his hand as if to say It’s not a problem. “That’s what I’m here for isn’t it?”
You smile back. “I’m glad we went together.”
Together. He likes the sound of that. He thinks to himself that he’d go with you to other places too; you need only to give the word. To the edge of this world, and through a portal to the next? He’d meet you by the front gate at dawn.
He’s surprised that the encounter with those slimes had gone as smoothly as it had. It isn’t uncommon for him to get hit a few times, bruises quick to form on his arms or his legs. And it’s quite the run of luck, of which he’s ordinarily in short supply, that he should get through a fight with nary a scratch on him while with you. His efforts to impress are actually succeeding.
However, this is another case of speaking too soon, because he starts to walk back to you, but then his foot gets caught on a rock concealed by the tall grass, and he tumbles to the ground.
“Oof!”
His chest collides with the earth as he lands with a thud and the breath is stolen from his lungs. You gasp and close the gap between you, and in viewing you in his peripherals, he notes that you are much more graceful at it.
“Are you all right?”
Bracing his hands on the dirt, small bits of rock digging into his palms, Bennett pushes himself up to sit on his knees. “Yeah, I’m okay!” Here he thought he had handled himself perfectly well, but then just like that, his clumsiness returned, and once more before you he is awkward, blundering Bennett.
Unlike the incident at the bakery when he’d bumped his head into the tray, this fall had actually hurt, and he can’t hide it successfully, a slight wince of pain crossing his face in spite of his smile. Even if you hadn’t caught on to that, the injuries elsewhere on his body give it away completely.
“Your arms are all scraped up…” After Bennett stands back up, you gingerly take hold of his forearm and angle it to examine the scrapes there, thin red lines from tiny stones tearing the skin.
Your grip is light, like you’re scared to injure him further, and Bennett is thankful for the darkness that is setting in as the sun disappears and the moon begins its trek across the sky, for it conceals the way his cheeks redden to be this close to you, to be touched by you. The concern in your gaze as you look at his arm makes his chest squeeze but not in the good way, and he bends his knees slightly to duck into your line of view.
“Don’t worry! I’m fine.” And it’s true. He’s sustained worse, though he steers clear of sharing this part. He doesn’t like to see you worried.
He straightens up when you finally meet his eyes and dons his smile again, easy and reassuring. It seems to convince you, as you nod and let go. He drops his arm back down to his side but he’s already missing the feather-light sensation of your fingertips. Successfully reassured, your smile also returns, replacing the thin line of worry that your lips had previously been set in.
It’s dark now but the air is still warm, a consequence of the season. In the daytime the heat is more extreme, made even more so by the fire curling from the edge of his sword. At the conclusion of whatever commission he has taken, he’s left sweating, satisfied but exhausted. Missions in the summer are more difficult to get through, the sun beating down with little mercy and its heat lingering into the night, but he thinks that if he were to have you there with him, he’d hardly notice.
Your delicate gaze is the cool ocean breeze and your soft smile the deluge of waves washing over him, a force he receives gladly because he is falling into you, deeper into the expanse of your heart. He’s diving into the sea, the unbearable heat of summer long forgotten as he makes his way to the bottom. What he hopes to find he isn’t sure, but he’d be content to remain there forever, consumed by you and all the love you have to offer.
“Okay?” he asks, voice soft. You had nodded but he also wants verbal confirmation that you won’t burden yourself with worry anymore.
You catch on to his own need for reassurance, and he wants to sink into the refreshing fondness of your eyes as you watch him. “Okay.”
The moon up above illuminates your face, and he wants to run his fingers along all the parts it touches: the line of your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, the cupid’s bow of your lips. He yearns to be closer to you than that moonlight adorning your skin, and maybe it’s strange that he should be envious of it, of that light which has the privilege to hold you so near, but the feelings he has for you are what’s written about in books, and in those stories, people do tend to do strange things.
In the morning, he stops by the bakery as usual but this time is surprised when you set a cake down alongside the other baked goods he buys. You answer his question before he can voice it.
“For yesterday,” you state simply. “For my hero.”
Your—?
“I think ‘hero’ is too strong a word for it,” Bennett replies, chuckling quietly and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. After all, they had just been slimes.
You hum noncommittally, corner of your mouth lifted in a grin. “Maybe, but yesterday you were mine. So please take this as thanks.”
He’d like to be yours every day, and the thought of how nice that would be makes his whole world just a little brighter, like the crystal butterflies fluttering around him in the wild on the warm summer nights; and he hopes that the next adventure the wind guides him on leads straight back to you.
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laemony · 3 years
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What I’ve read in 2020!
Welcome back to this thing I started in 2017 and still don’t know WHY it should matter!
2017  2018  2019
This year has been a shit show but I must admit I’ve read quite a lot (who knew that staying at home with nothing else to do, except watching the world burn, could lead to this?!) Anyway! This is it, enjoy!
WAR AND PEACE, L. TOLSTOY – biggest book I’ve ever read in my life, I don’t know how but it’s never boring, I loved the characters and I adored the historical knowledge; the two subjects mix, when people are at war they miss peace, and when they are at peace they miss and look for war; it’s full of time skips in a very Russian fashion… only thing it bothered me, in my edition at least, all the paragraphs written in French didn’t have a translation, I hope I didn’t lose too many infos lol 8,5/10
PERSUASION, J. AUSTEN – this book! A surprise, a revelation, a discovery! Brilliant! Funny! Lovely! Anne’s expressions of her family are hilarious; one of my favourites so far, even if “lost love who is not as forgotten as you thought they would be” sounds way too much like the story of my life 10/10
THE YEARS, V. WOOLF – it felt lonely, yet lively; a bit hopeless, but not too sad; the chatter, the teasing, is all very familiar, as if she wrote about my own family; simple in its day-to-day life; felt like autumn (if it makes sense????) 8/10
THE DEAD SOULS, N. GOGOL – ridiculous characters, ridiculous conversations, I loved the ironic way it depicts Russian society and its people; the last chapter is a mess, I couldn’t imagine how it could end and to be honest I still have no idea 7,5/10
THE PROCESS, F. KAFKA – no time-line; not a single emotion, not from the characters neither from the author; a cold, indifferent depiction of a series of facts, which are everything but clear; not an inch of silence, just words; it tired me out, I just needed a bit more silence 5/10
THE WHITE GUARD, M. BULGAKOV – I simply love how he writes (wrote??) and his characters are always so unique and interesting; I adore the references to Tolstoy and Dostoevskij; this book has more of a painting than a book; it’s an impressive recount of a fundamental historical moment; the end is not clear but beautiful 9,5/10
THE HANDMAID’S TALE, M. ATWOOD – I thought I wouldn’t have been able to stomach it, and then I found out that there’s a right way to tell a story about violence and she mastered it; cruel people are just that, no craziness, no dark past, just thirst for power and the confidence of knowing what’s best for everyone; it gave me chills, it made me angry; I love how she writes, it’s the first time a first person pov doesn’t make me want to tear my eyes off my face… people who watched the series: do you know what’s the real name of Offred? I need it 10/10
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, J. AUSTEN – as usual, her books must be read in one breath; Jane and Charles’ story is my favourite; I love Mr Bennet as much as I can’t suffer everyone’s sisters (except Miss Darcy of course); it has an amazing mix of characters, I absolutely love the drama that follows Mr Darcy; I honestly expected a more dramatic confession at the end but it was great 9/10
NOTES FROM A DEATH HOUSE, F. DOSTOEVSKY – a bit too auto-biographic for my tastes, but I adored his depiction of a humanity which is often forgotten; it’s very disturbing in its actuality if you stop to think about it; he never tires himself saying that those “criminals” are also and foremost human beings 7,5/10
ASYLUM, P. MCGRATH – the first part is fast-paced, it leaves you breathless and with an anxious need to keep on reading; then it started to be a little more psychological and it kinda bored me; I liked the narrator very much, it was really disturbing 7,5/10
DOCTOR ZIVAGO, B. PASTERNAK – every Russian book I’ve read gave me a glimpse of Russian history and culture, yet they’re all different and I think that’s often underappreciated. Now, this book. This book is, simply put, breath-taking. The landscapes are immense and colourful, the talent of this man is unparalleled; it has a devastating end, it’s a book I’ll probably read over and over again just ‘cause reading it is “such a sweet sorrow” 10/10 (this rec is shorter than what it should have been in my mind, but I’d probably end up talking about this book and only this book so that’s it, it’s called self-control)
EMMA, J. AUSTEN – at first I was annoyed by Emma’s character, but then she proved herself so oblivious it started to become pretty funny; I can’t get over how much people talk in this book, the irony is SO on point, I love it; I probably like it more than Persuasion, because there are so many twists that the ending left me really surprised for once. And let me tell you, Jane Austen is THE BEST at depicting insufferable people 10/10
UNO, NESSUNO, E CENTOMILA, L. PIRANDELLO – look at me, reading Italian literature, world must be ending… to be honest? I don’t remember much of it? And I didn’t take notes as I usually do? I must’ve been bored out of my mind… I’ll give it a 6/10 on trust alone because I know Pirandello is great lol
HIS DARK MATERIALS, P. PULLMAN – finally got to this and it left me pretty confused; the first book is great, I loved the characters and the scenery, but in the other two I felt like too many things were left unexplained and Lyra’s character too lost some of its greatness; the end brought very little clarity, if at all, and of course I hated it with a passion; I don’t think he expressed the maximum potential of the world he built, but I liked it alright 7,5/10
1984, G. ORWELL – saying I was disappointed might be an understatement; I like how it’s written but the story in itself is frustrating, frankly boring, and disappointing, especially the end; you don’t build so much tension just to end it like that! Tho, maybe that’s exactly what he wanted to convey; everything is pretty much hopeless, made me angry 7/10
CARRIE, S. KING – first of his book I’ve ever read, AND I LOVED IT; it’s not a style I like very much, letting us know how it will end since the beginning, but it was great, magnificent, empowering; I don’t know if I’ll ever have the patience to read the others (they’re all so big) but this certainly got me curious 9/10
JACOB’S ROOM, V. WOOLF – confusing, very confusing, more confusing than anything of hers; of course it’s very beautifully written, but I have no idea what happened there 6,5 maybe 7/10?
THE WITCH, S. JACKSON – my personal Halloween challenge begins with this; short, CREEPY, VERY CREEPY, to the point (what point?); absolutely loved it 8/10
THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE, S. JACKSON – listen, creepy houses are my jam, they’re the best; my first impression of the characters went like this: they’re all batshit crazy, I love them; it honestly gave me nightmares; I wish I would’ve read it in English tho 8/10
THE ABC MURDERS, A. CHRISTIE – the queen of plot-twists herself, she never disappoints; not my favourite, mind you, but it was great how she built the story of the murderer just to… well, you’ll have to read it 7,5/10
THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER, E. A. POE – I love when short stories such as this leave so much space around them to build whatever plot your imagination can come up with; it’s great, even left like it is 8/10
THE PENELOPIAD, M. ATWOOD – whatever guys, this woman has the ability to write the worst things in such a delicate way simply out of this world; I ADORE HER 9/10
THE UNCOMMON READER, A. BENNETT – hilarious from start to finish, kinda frustrating in the way only royal etiquette can be; I love how the Queen relates to others and I adored her inner monologue; the end is brilliant and the whole book (more or less 100 pages) feels like a breath of fresh air 8/10
THEATRE
THE COMEDY OF ERRORS, W. SHAKESPEARE – funny, brilliant, it became one of my favourite comedies (and there aren’t many of them) 8/10
CYMBELINE, W. SHAKESPEARE – nice little thing, with all the ingredients of a tragedy but with a happy ending; for a moment I thought it would end in a King Lear’s way, glad it didn’t 7,5/10
THE TAMING OF THE SHREW, W. SHAKESPEARE – the first of Shakespeare’s plays that I didn’t like at all, and I think the reasons are pretty clear to whoever has read it; it kinda felt “out of character” for him, but maybe I’m just an ignorant 4/10
POETRY and LETTERS
ARIEL, S. PLATH – raw, powerful, sad, everything I expected of it, I also have the best edition ever, she’s great 8/10
POEMS FROM THE MOOR, E. BRONTE – the talent, the power of this woman; I’ll cry the loss of the Gondal’s saga for the rest of my life 8/10
LETTERS TO A YOUNG POET, R. M. RILKE – amazing, the thins this man could write even in such a trivial thing as a letter, I love him 10/10
MARINA CVETAEVA – I must admit, I like her prose better than her poetry; her letters are heart breaking yet so full of enthusiasm you can’t help but feel for her; also, she loves Boris as much as I do, her letters to him are my favourite thing in the world 9/10
BORIS PASTERNAK – this man was the best present this year could give me, do yourself a favour and go read him 10/10
SPECIAL MENTION: THE SECRET HISTORY, D. TARTT – I may have a problem with her books, but I’ve started this in January and never got the patience to finish it; chapters WAY too long, characters that are so insufferable they can’t be real; pretentious, boring… I can’t give it a rating because I didn’t finish it and I’m not a monster, but the bar is very low
This is it I guess! I hope I gave you a little bit of entertainment, this is something I usually do for myself but I’m glad to share with you every year. I wish you a better end of 2020 than the whole, stay strong and stay safe!  A virtual hug to everyone 💚💚💚 
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You Don’t Have To Be Betty Grable
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Fandom: Dunkirk
Pairing: Collins x Overweight Female Reader
Warning: Few mentions of general body insecurities
Writer: @imaginesofeveryfandom aka @thequeenofthehobbits
Summary/Request: You had rather bad luck with dates and dance halls, but this time turns out rather better than you expected. 
Notes: Because i’m a plump girl and with the limited reader inserts about Dunkirk plus the fact some heavily describe the reader as thin, this is a little bit of personal self indulgence. We’re not all small, lithe, petite and we should still get to enjoy reader inserts and a fandom if we’re not. Consider this a protest over the exclusionary writing in reader inserts, at least state at the start if you’re describing the reader a certain way. It can be rather off putting to be enjoying something and then suddenly feel excluded. 
Using Jack as Collins’ first name because it seems to be the fandoms choice since we don’t actually have his first name.
I haven’t tried to write out a Scottish accent because that can sometimes go badly and be quite hard to keep reading with, so just imagine it in your head or read his parts in a Scottish accent.
Also the junior service joke is an actual real life thing. My Dad’s ex RN and its a long running joke between the Army and the Navy that the RAF are the junior service.
You’re not Hollywood Starlet, no Greta Garbo or Joan Bennett. You’re not tall or lithe, not perfectly proportioned or flat stomached. You had long come to terms with that fact. You were plump as your mother would put it. Wide hips, a soft stomach that didn’t lie flat, large thighs, arms, soft round cheeks. You accepted that fact, it wasn’t uncommon, not really. You knew most women walking down the street were no Jean Arthur or Carole Lombard. But you also knew that most of women who got asked to dance halls or out to cafes were closer to Greta Garbo than yourself. But it was okay. You didn’t need to be leggy or thin to be in the nursing corps. You just needed to be good at your job and you were. 
You didn’t need to stun every man you treated, you just needed to make sure they were okay. So you did your best to ignore the sinking envy whenever you walked down the street to see women walking arm in arm with their sweethearts. Because you didn’t need that. You were okay without it. You had a job to do and a war was on. But just because you didn’t need something, didn’t mean you didn’t crave it, want it, and hope for it when you lied awake at night staring at the ceiling as your fellow nurses snored in the beds beside you. 
You meet a lot of men in your line of work, some that make unnecessary, nasty comments because they’re in pain, some that are silent, some that are nice, but very rarely a man who wants to take you out on the town. In some ways you’re glad because your work is your work and that would surely interfere with it. In other ways you wish that just once someone would turn up and sweep you off your feet because the other girls don’t understand. They ask why you haven’t a sweetheart yet and how do you explain that men just don’t seem to want to view you that way, that despite your outward confidence there’s a scared little girl inside of you. Who worries you’re too ugly, too fat, too this, too that. That you’ll always be alone while everyone else around you pairs off. You know deep down those are the insecurities of a little girl, that they’re irrational, that at some point you’ll meet the right person. But it seems like everyone else has so many right people and you don’t have single one. That for some there’s a new right person every week and for you there’s never a single one. It’s a little disheartening, a little lonely, and it feeds those old insecurities that comment in your ear when you get dressed in the morning and stand in front of a mirror. 
You don’t except that to suddenly change. 
“You’re coming to the dance hall tonight, right?” You look up from where you’re making beds for any future men who come in for a little medical help, to see Anne perched on a table along the wall. Anne was one of your closest friends. Beautiful, funny, a good nurse, and kind. She was always kind, especially to you. But, she had a habit of making you go to the dance hall with her and her sweetheart, Albert. 
“Anne...You know I always end up sitting there alone!” You don’t hate the dance hall because of the noise or the people or the dancing, you hate the dance hall because Anne always has Albert and you always end up sitting there watching everyone else dance. Because it’s never some romantic or happy occasion for you, it’s rather boring when you’re just sat there watching everyone else have fun. The few times she’d found a friend of Albert’s to come with, they’ve always gone off to dance with another girl. You’ve had some rather poor luck with it. 
“Not this time. Albert has a friend he’s bringing along. He’s in the RAF.” She says it like it’s supposed to impress you and it probably would if firstly you didn’t spend your day around men in uniform and secondly if you thought he might actually like you. Which you didn’t. Because they never had before. It was useless getting your hopes up. 
“Who’s to say he’ll even want to dance with me Anne...I’m no Betty Grable.”
“You don’t have to be! How many bloody times have we told you that just because you’re a bit plumper than the rest of us doesn’t mean you’re not pretty or that people won’t want to dance with you?” She was always so adamant that you were pretty, beautiful even, that you’d find someone you just needed a little time. Part of you believed her because surely she wouldn’t lie to you and because you knew that really being bigger than other girls didn’t inherently make you attractive or unattractive. But the little twelve year old in you that symbolised all your insecurities found it hard to believe her. It was a constant internal conflict.
“Anne...”
“Look, I know you’ve had some rotten luck. But trust me on this one.” She looked so sure that this would work out. That this time you’d have a good time. That this one would like you. Would dance with you, that you couldn’t exactly find it within yourself to say no. At least you’d get to dress up, listen to some nice music. There was always a bright side if this went poorly. 
“Fine.” You cut off her excited clapping, “But only because you seem so sure and I trust you. But...that doesn’t mean I believe this is actually going to be better than the last time” You look at her pointedly, the last time had been one of the worst; he hadn’t even said hello to you before he’d gone off to find another girl to dance with. Poor Albert had been dreadfully embarrassed. 
“I’m sure it will be better than...that time. He wasn’t worth your time anyway! So rude!” You huff a little laugh at that before returning to your corners. The beds have to be perfect or the Matron will have you redo them. It made little sense to you considering any man that slept in them or sat on them immediately messed up the hard work, but who were you to argue? 
Friday nights were dance hall nights, everyone would fill the nearest hall after work and once they were off duty and dance the night away to good music and pleasant company. Anne convinced you to come along without fail every Friday and every Friday night you usually found yourself sat at a table listening to the music and watching her and Albert dance. Occasionally Albert brought a friend, but they usually only spent a few minutes with you before deciding they preferred to dance with someone else. Some were ruder than others, some would stay and talk with you for a good hour even though they clearly would rather be dancing with the pretty blonde in the corner. Sometimes you just told them to go have fun. Sometimes you barely got an introduction before they left. You understood of course, sometimes the men weren’t your type and you didn’t want to dance with them either, everyone had their preferences. It just seemed like you weren’t really anyone's. 
You went through your usual routine after getting off duty. A quick bath, choosing a nice dress, finding the nice stockings you had (the ones that you’d tried to keep in good condition what with rationing on), picking a comfortable pair of heels, pinning your hair, doing your make-up. You always decided that if you were going to go out, you’d look nice for yourself. If no one wanted to dance with you at least you’d feel good. 
You always found that the walk with Anne was the nicest part of the night, the two of would joke and laugh as you made you way down the street. Usually commenting on Matron’s newest rule or how the General on base always seemed to smile at her particularly brightly. 
“I think she’s been going on dates with him, she seems particularly flustered lately by his affections”
“It’s strange to think of such a stern woman being flustered.” You pointed out as you neared the hall, the music leaking out into the street. 
“She’s only that way because she wants our work to be the best, you know she’s not as stoic as she pretends to be!” You knew that to be true, on more than one occasion you’d caught her smiling at a joke and quickly cover it up. Matron was a lady who wanted to be the best at her job, wanted you to all be the best nurses, but underneath that harsh exterior you all knew that she was soft as any of you. 
You both enter the hall and it was already filled with bodies, women in pretty dresses, men in suites and a good few in uniform. Some are dancing already to the band that’s playing and some are sat at a table. 
Albert is already at the table he always saved for your little group. Slightly off to the side, giving enough distance from the dance floor for those who want a break without being crowded. As Anne had already said he was sat next to a man in the blue uniform of the RAF. Brown hair, brown eyes, a rather bored expression on his face. He wasn’t unattractive, but he wasn’t spectacularly handsome either. 
“Hello, sweetheart”
“Hello, Albert” 
You speak at the same time, you smile at Albert and Anne is already clambering into the seat nearest him. You liked Albert, he was kind to you, a sort of brotherly figure. He always tried to make you comfortable and always felt bad for any failed ‘dates’. It was always someone he knew and every time it didn’t work out you knew he felt rather bad for it, like it was his fault. Which was absolute rubbish because he had no say in whether someone was interested in you or not.
“Hello, darling; Y/N, you look lovely tonight, Charles, doesn’t she look lovely tonight?” You can see Albert trying so hard to make this one work, but Charles looks over at you with a lack of interest and forces a smile. 
“Yes. Lovely.” You force your own smile and take a seat. Charles isn’t someone you’d necessarily go out of your way to impress, even more so when he seems completely disinterested and isn’t even being particularly nice to Albert. 
“So…you’re in the Royal Air Force?” 
“Yes.”
“I’m a nurse.” You’re trying, really hard to make this work because for once you’d like just one dance, even if it was a friendly dance. But you can already see his eyes are more focused on the other girls around the room. 
“How have you been, Y/N?” Albert tries to strike up a conversation with you and you’re thankful because this is incredibly uncomfortable for you. Albert is a handsome man, bright red hair, that Anne always says reminds her of bonfires on the 5th of November (rather cliché, but sweet), and bright happy eyes. The lines on his face aren’t from age but from smiling and laughing so much. He’s so incredibly lovely to Anne that you enjoy his company yourself. He’s a brotherly figure and you’re ever so glad to know him, he’s rather helpful when you’re having issues. 
“Wonderful, we haven’t had too many troublesome men come in for attention yet, not too much screaming or complaining lately and Matron’s been downright sweet!” 
“Since she went on that date with the General!” Anne chimed in and you could still see her excitement over the relationship she believed Matron was getting herself into. She grabbed Albert’s hand in her excitement. Charles seemed utterly bored with the conversation, but you found you didn’t care for the man at all. Let him be miserable if he wanted to be. 
“Since we think she went on that date. We don’t know, Anne.” 
“Well, at least she’s finally lightened up, eh?” 
“Too right! She didn’t even criticise my corners before we left!” She had simply praised you and thanked you for making the beds, it had been a rather surreal experience. 
The three of you fall into comfortable conversation, Charles simply staring at other women around the room. He’s a rather dull fellow and his apparent negativity is rather irritating, after all if he didn’t want to stay around you lot he could simply leave.
“Davis? That you?” You hear a distinct Scottish brogue over the clamour of the music calling Albert’s surname and turn with the others to look at who had called out. 
The man in question is tall and dressed in the familiar blue of the Royal Air Force much like Charles, but he wears it much better. It seems to fit his frame better, rather than hanging loosely like Charles’. He is handsome, that is obvious from the first glance at his face, neat blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a cheeky smile. It has your heart beating just a tad faster than before. 
“Oi, Collins! Good to see you!” Albert stands from the table to pull ‘Collins’ into a brief hug, they seem incredibly familiar, more familiar with each other than Charles and Albert. You wonder if Albert is even friends with Charles or if they simply ran into each other a few times. 
“Look at you lucky bugger, two pretty girls?” You find yourself a little flustered at the compliment to both you and Anne, not least because his gaze seems to linger on you just a tad longer than normal. 
“This is my girlfriend, Anne, and her friend, Y/N,” You wave at Collins as you’re introduced, smiling sweetly. You think that he’s at the least the most talkative and entertaining of Albert’s friends. 
“Jack Collins, and who’s this? I haven’t seen you around base, mate?” He turns his attention to Charles who as he has been for the past half hour is bored looking and doesn’t seem particularly interested in the new comer. 
“Charles Newman, I’m one of the engineers.” Even the shake he gives Collins appears half-hearted. You wonder why he’s so...so dull and well, rather rude, but you suppose that perhaps it’s none of your business.
“Ah, aye, that would explain it.” 
“What do you do, Jack?” He’s obviously not one of the engineers if he doesn’t know Charles and they work and live on the same base. You also find you like listening to him speak and want to keep him talking. 
“I’m fighter pilot, Spitfires.” 
“That’s awfully dangerous.” You all know that the life expectancy for pilots is rather bad compared to some, the air is a dangerous place to be in this war and you worry a little. 
“A little, but, someone’s got to do it, and i’m not half bad if I do say so myself.” You can see a look in his eyes that tells you he’s seen just how dangerous it can be. You wonder what it’s been like for him, this war, his job.
“I don’t doubt that you’re an excellent pilot.” You can see Anne and Albert quietly leaving the table out of the corner of your eye, no doubt to finally go dance together. You find you don’t mind being left with Jack, although you’d rather have Charles leave as well. 
“So what do you do, Y/N?” He takes a seat across from you, with a charming smile and find yourself wanting to sigh like some lovesick little girl. 
“I’m a nurse, so is Anne.”
“Ah, so you’ll be tending my wounds if I fall from the sky then?”
“Well, I’d hope you’d stay in the air, but yes. If you needed a little bedside manner then i’d be there, or someone else I know.” You can’t guarantee after all that you would be his nurse. Although, it would be a reason to speak to him again. Although you’d prefer him to stay flying high, rather than plummeting to the earth.  
“I’ll make you a promise, for a dance, I’ll do me best to stay aloft and out of your medical building.” You haven’t been asked to dance in a long while and you don’t for a second think he’s doing it to be kind. For once you’re rather sure that he’s genuinely interested in you and you find yourself smiling broadly at him.
“A dance? I think I can manage that price.” You let him help you from your seat and leave Charles behind at the table on his own. You can’t find it in you to feel sorry for him, not when he’s been so dour. 
You’re led to the dance floor just as I’ll Be Seeing You begins to be sung. You wrap your arms around Jack’s neck and fluster a little as his arms wrap around your waist, to sway along with you. He’s so incredibly handsome, but even more so up close. His eyes seem to sparkle, crinkling at the corners with his smile. 
“Was Newman your date?”
“Albert brought him along...he does every other Friday, not Charles, but a ‘friend’ of his.” Always a ‘friend’, always someone for you to dance with and usually someone who doesn’t particularly want to dance with you. He’s rather bad at this. Especially if he could have introduced you to Jack all along. 
“Never worked out before?” You watch his brow furrow and find you much prefer it when he’s smiling. 
“They’re never particularly interested...there’s usually someone else who’s caught their eye.” Your words are heavy and loaded, because you know why they’re never particularly interested and it’s been a rather horrible low blow every other week. 
“Why?” He gives you a curious look, like he doesn’t quite believe that every man you’ve been introduced to before him hasn’t been interested. 
“I suppose...I...”
“I won’t judge...why do you think they’ve not been interested?” You believe him, believe that he won’t judge you, that he’s simply confused and a little curious. Besides he’d already shown he was interested unlike the others. That earned him at least an answer. 
“Well, I’m no Betty Grable...I’m not thin or tall or...I’m just not the prettiest girl in the room to them. That doesn’t mean I don’t think I’m pretty, but...I don’t think that they think I am.” It’s hard to explain how it feels so disjointed the way you see yourself sometimes verses how other people seem to see you or at least how men seem to see you. 
“You don’t need to be Betty Grable...you don’t need to be tall or thin or...” His grip tightens around your wide waist and he looks down for a moment, before looking up again, a rather out of place redness to his cheeks considering his previous confidence. “I think you’re beautiful and...And when I walked over and I saw you I was...I was blown away and I wouldn’t want you to change anything about yourself. You’re lovely. I’m sure you’d look lovely wearing in a potato sack.” 
You’ve never been told that before. Not by anyone but Anne, Albert and your family. You’re not sure it’s the same thing. To be told you’re wonderful as you are, that he thinks you’re beautiful. It makes your chest ache in a good way, and your mouth curl upwards without even thinking about it. You find you like Jack even more than you first thought. 
“You’re not so bad yourself...i’m sure you’d look spiffy in a potato sack, Jack.” You both laugh at the little rhyme and you let him pull you closer, leaning your cheek against his shoulder. 
He is kind. He is funny. He is handsome. He is warm. But, most importantly he makes you smile, makes your heart lift in your chest, makes your stomach buzz with the good sort of nerves that you haven’t felt since you were in school. He makes you want to smile until your cheeks hurt. 
“You really are bonnie, you know.” He whispers it in your ear and a shiver runs down your spine. Your curl closer to him without stopping your swaying. 
“Thank you...for being so lovely.”
“Thank you for letting me dance with you.” 
The two of you dance for most of the night, stopping now and then to get a glass of water and take a seat to let your feet rest. He is so incredibly funny that you’re sure you’ve annoyed a few people with your loud laughs, but you can’t seem to care. Not when you’re around him. 
“Do...could I walk you back?” The band is winding down and the hall has thinned of people and it really is time that you got back before Matron took a chunk out of you.
“I’d like that.” You grab your coat from where you’d left it and wave goodbye to Albert and Anne who appear to want to stay a little longer.
Jack holds his arm out to you and you happily wrap your arm through his. It’s not a long walk back to the base that you live and work on, its Army and you know the guys on duty at the front will probably make some comment about Jack being in the ‘junior service’. After all the RAF was only just over 20 years old compared to the much longer run of the Royal Navy and the British Army. 
“It’s been a really nice night, Jack. Thank you for dancing with me.” You hadn’t had such a nice Friday night in a long while, and his appearance practically saved you from dealing with Charles all night. It was a relief to finally be around someone who genuinely wanted to be there.
“Thank you for giving me the light of day.” 
The walk is nice and peaceful and you wonder if Jack will want to see you again after tonight. You certainly want to see him again. He makes you feel comfortable, happy, like you don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not.
“Nurse Y/L/N” You’re greeted by the two at the front gate, most of the men know who you are by now, most of them have come in for at least something little. Whether a splinter or a stomach bug. 
“Boys.”
“Looks like you found yourself a member of the junior service, eh?”
“Boys.” The stern tone to your voice tells them to back off somewhat, even though you’re sure Collins finds it amusing rather than insulting. As is the nature of the military. You turn to him, removing your grip on your arm. 
“Well, I suppose this is goodnight.”
“I suppose it is.” The two of you stare at each other for a few moments, before he speaks again. “Would you like to go out sometime? Maybe next week? I can come wait for you out here...?”
“I’d like that, maybe Friday again? 7 o’clock?”
“It’s a date.”  You smile at him, trying to ignore the two men watching your exchange, before reaching up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Goodnight, Jack.”
“Goodnight, love.” 
You force yourself to turn and walk through the entryway to the base, you try your hardest not to look back, but you do anyway only to see him standing there smiling at you. You return the smile. 
You’re rather glad you agreed to go to the dance hall that night. 
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vieuxnoyesrp · 7 years
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Tatum. We really liked the thought and the depth you put in your application for our up and coming Labonair Alpha. What is particularly important to us when it comes to Hayley applications is to get a feel for who she is before turning into the fearsome and fearless leader that she became on the show. This isn’t quite where’s she’s at in our verse (not yet anyway!), and your application beautifully captured this distinction. We see a Hayley that is still rough around the edges, still too honest for the maelstrom of politics and deception that is the Bayou, and still has a lot to learn. This gives her so much room to grow! We could hear her staunch, stubborn voice in your sample para, and your headcanons helped further bring-out her humanity. All in all, you showed us that even in her fledgling state your Hayley Labonair is a force to be reckoned with, and we cannot wait to have her on the dash!
Tatum, thank you very much for applying. As for Hayley…
                      ⚜ ~ WELCOME TO VIEUX NOYÉS!!! ~ ⚜
Wondering what to do next? Click here and let the good times roll!
⚜ Roleplayer:  
⤜ Name/alias: Tatum ⤜ Pronouns: She/Her + female ⤜ Age: 19 ⤜ Timezone: Est ⤜ Activity: 7-8 ; I typically can be on for an hour or two every day with weekend activity increasing a few hours. At the very least, I make sure to get one round of replies out per day if not on hiatus or something of that nature. ⤜ Best form of contact: The tumblr messenger function is the fastest way to reach me but I do have a Skype if necessary for plotting and such. ⤜ Any Triggers? Not at the present time. ⤜ How did you find Vieux Noyés? I actually stumbled across the one year post in the roleplay tags. I thought it was pretty amazing that a group had lasted that long and decided to check it out. (congrats by the way; that’s a landmark not a ton of people hit ❤ ) ⤜ What drew you to the RP? The thing that drew me most to the roleplay was the way the characters from multiple shows were arranged. I enjoy how the admins have found a way to combine so many supernatural creatures and beings in a way that makes sense. The plot gives a solid backbone to start writing from but also allows writers some grey areas to which they can use to develop their character in a unique way.
⤜ What is one subplot/element from the Plot page that you are particularly looking forward to seeing in this roleplay? I’m most interested in the witches subplot. I find it very interesting to have Davina Claire and the New Orleans witches run into the Bennetts. I believe that the possible conflict and hierarchy development of power between these witches is a very interesting element and something that hasn’t really been quite explored in either of the shows.
⚜ Desired Character: Hayley Labonair
⤜ Why do you want this character?
Hayley has always been a character that I’ve been drawn to. From the first time she appeared in the series, it was obvious to see that she was a character strong enough to stand on her own, but also a girl that had a tormented past. I enjoy that Hayley has a particular brand of sass and wit that is all her own, but that quality about her is also her defense mechanism. Hayley isn’t your typical Mary Jane character. She isn’t perfect, but she tries. Her drive to find her family and her history have shaped her into a person that stops at no end to protect those she loves because she’s been deprived of the typical, happy childhood for no good reason. Perhaps, it’s the fact that Hayley has become everything she is today on her own accord that draws me to her the most. The Labonair is completely able to take care of herself, but she’s beginning to realize that perhaps friends and allies aren’t the worst thing to have in the world. I want to be the person that gets to explore Hayley’s journey from becoming a lone wolf to one that belongs to a pack, or better yet, a family. I believe that I can do that within the context of this roleplay and would be overjoyed to be given the opportunity to make this she-wolf to come to life.
⤜ What are your future plans for this character?
My future plans for Hayley are mostly centered around her ascent into becoming an alpha. I want to explore how Hayley deals with the power that comes along with her new position.  I want to show how her nature and the way she deals with others adapts to the new role she’s been given. I’d also like to explore her relationships with others. I believe that it will be interesting to allow a few walls of Hayley’s to come down and display how she interacts with other’s she’s allowed to get past the walls she’s created over the years. Finally, I’d like to explore how Hayley learns about her past from Jackson and other members of the pack. She’s spent her entire life seeking this information, and now that she has access to it, I’d like to show how her goals and also ideas about wolves come to change and grow.
⤜ Put yourself in your character’s shoes. Give us a few lines to describe a day in the life of your character… Where do they live? Where and how do they spend their time? (feel free to refer to our locations page that can be found in the navigation)
Hayley likely starts the day fairly early in the morning. While she may not get up and do things right away, she likes the calm that comes over her while watching the sunrise in the Bayou. Her cabin there is small but quaint. She isn’t one for much artistic décor, but there are minimal elements that she’s added to the home to make it her own. Hayley enjoys darker colors, most of her furniture and décor fall into this range of colors as well. After morning cup of coffee, Hayley likes to go for a run through the community to check on the members of her pack. Once she’s assessed the area and confirmed that the members of her pack are safe, she’ll likely meet with Jackson to discuss what they need to get done for the day. Once she’s finished there, she’ll call Tyler to see if he wants to either train or meet up for a drink. These meetings with Tyler are her repose from the Bayou, often occurring just outside of city limits. Hayley isn’t one to spend time in the Quarter, but there are times in which she ventures there to do a little surveillance and visit the local bars for a drink. Hayley’s days are mostly routine, but the way she views them, they’re comprised of things that are necessary to her cause and her new role as alpha. Towards the evening, Hayley will likely pick up something to eat and dine with a few of her pack members around the fire before doing a final sweep of the Bayou for the night. Once she’s sure everything and everyone is away for the night, she’ll retire to her cabin for the night. Often, she’ll pour herself a glass of bourbon and drink it while reading a book or writing in a journal. Once the clock strikes two, she’ll shower and get herself to bed before waking up once again to start the next day.
⤜ Give us three headcanons regarding your character of choice. (If your character is from one of the tv shows, please come up with a headcanon that is not explicitly stated on the show, but is rather based on your own imagination.)
Hayley cannot cook to save her life.Hayley’s cooking skills are extremely lacking. This is most likely because she’s a product of her upbringing. Bouncing around from place to place didn’t quite leave her with the money or utilities needed to cook proper meals. She’s survived on to go food and the microwavable food she comes across. While most wouldn’t be too bothered by it, Hayley absolutely hates the fact that she isn’t capable of this simple task. So, in the evenings, she can be found with a ratty, old cookbook and a few ingredients in hand. While most of the time her efforts end with her having to open a window to ventilate the space after burning something, she can’t quite help but enjoy the times she gets the meal right. Her goal is to be able to cook a few dozen meals by the end of the year. Even though she began trying to learn how to cook for her own needs, it’s actually become a bit of a hobby for her. It unwinds the wolf after a stressful day, allowing her time to focus on a task with clear instructions that produce an immediate result.
Hayley is extremely claustrophobic. This is a quirk about the wolf that she doesn’t quite talk about a lot. No one knows of this fear as she believes it to be foolish. Her fear of small spaces stems from her childhood experiences in foster homes and sleeping in random places for the nights. Once, she spent the night in a small closet with the door locked, and the whole ordeal terrified her when she realized she couldn’t escape. Now, if she’s caught in a tight space, the wolf does her best to hide the way her hands curl inwards as her nails dig into her flesh to distract her from the terror. Beads of sweat pool on her forehead and her breathing quickens until she’s able to get out into the open. This is yet another reason she’s thankful for her wolf side. When she turns, the freedom that comes with being able to run as a wolf is a release for her, and she enjoys the open terrain and using it to her advantage.
Hayley has a new found love for jazz music. Since coming to New Orleans, the wolf has begun to appreciate the city’s music. The first time she found herself in a bar within the city, a small jazz band was playing a set. Hayley found herself almost leaning forward on her barstool as the members of the band played and danced throughout the song. Hayley wasn’t quite sure what it was about the song, but the music had a way of drawing her in. The wolf found her fingers tapping along with the beat as a small smile appeared on her face. Now, it’s not uncommon to find the girl humming along to some song she’s picked up or tucked away in the corner booth of some hole in the wall bar listening to a new jazz band play.
⤜ What are some plots you’d like to explore with your character?
I’d like to explore Hayley’s relationship with Kira. I think it’s interesting that Hayley’s taken an interest in the younger girl. Hayley’s always been more self-oriented, only truly caring about her back outside of herself. I want to explore her reasoning to want to help the other girl and using it as a tool to display how Hayley is growing as a person. Alongside that, I want to show how Hayley reacts when she finds out that Kira isn’t in fact a wolf but something else entirely. I think it will be interesting to see if she sticks around for her after she’s sure she isn’t a wolf, and her decision in that will further define who she is becoming as a person and also possibly serve as an example to her pack.
Another relationship I’m interested in playing out is Hayley’s and Jackson’s. I want to delve into the conflict that is unavoidable now that Hayley, a newcomer, has taken over the alpha position when Jackson seemed to be the obvious choice. For Hayley, Jackson is her closest and dearest friend, and while she feels that she’s likely overstepped him, she can’t bring herself to regret her ascent to power. It isn’t in her nature to tip toe around anything, so she’ll have to figure out a solution fairly quickly or risk losing the most important person she’s come to have.
Outside of her relationships with others, I want to explore Hayley’s relationship with herself. After years of being of looking out for herself, I want to give her the opportunity to be taken care of herself. She now has at least two friends she knows she can trust, and I want to give her the opportunity to rely on someone else, an idea that used to be completely off limits to her. I think it will be good for the wolf to learn that she doesn’t have to take on the world by herself, and it’s alright to ask for a hand every now and then when she needs it. As for her enemies, I plan to expose a new side of Hayley. One that isn’t hand on the throttle at top speed. I want to allow her to think and consider more before she acts, but that’s not to say she’ll lose her temper either. I just want to allow Hayley to grow for the better, and while parts of her growth may make her teeth grit, it’s necessary for her to finally assimilate into the life she’s always dreamed about.
⤜ Para sample: (The sample must be in character, in third-person, and at least 300 words. Samples with dialogue are encouraged.)
(Retained for privacy.)
⤜ Would you like to be considered for another character if not accepted as your primary choice? Not at this time, thank you.
⤜ Have you read the rules?: Yes, I have!
⤜ Anything else? N/A.
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thesnhuup · 4 years
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Pop Picks – April 1, 2020
What I’m listening to: 
Out of nowhere and 8 years since his last recording, Bob Dylan last Thursday dropped a new single, the 17-minute (the longest Dylan song ever) “Murder Most Foul.” It’s ostensibly about the murder of President John F. Kennedy, but it’s bigger, more incisive, and elegiac than that alone. The music is gorgeous, his singing is lovely (a phrase rarely used for Dylan even in his prime), and he shows why he was deserving of his 2016 Nobel Prize in Literature. It’s worth listening to again and again. The man is a cultural treasure and as relevant as ever.
What I’m reading: 
The Milkman by Anna Burns, the 2018 Booker Prize winner, felt like slow going for the first bit, a leisurely stream of consciousness (not my favorite thing) first person tale of an adolescent girl during “the troubles” in 1970’s Northern Ireland. And then enough plot emerges to pull the reader along and tie the frequent and increasingly delightful digressions into the psychology of terror, sexual threat, adolescence, and a community (and world) that will create your narrative and your identity no matter what you know and believe about yourself. It’s layered, full of black humor, and powerful. It also somehow resonates for our times, where we navigate a newfound dread. It’s way more enjoyable than I just made it sound. One of my favorite reads of this young year.
What I’m watching:
I escaped back in time and started re-watching the first season of The West Wing. It is a vision – nostalgic, romantic, perhaps never true – of political leadership driven by higher purpose, American ideals, and moral intelligence. It does not pretend that politics can’t be craven, self-serving, and transactional, but the good guys mostly win in The West Wing, the acting is delightful, and Sorkin’s dialogue zings back and forth in the way of classic Hollywood movies of the 50s – smart, quick, funny. It reminds me – as has often happened during our current crisis – that most people are good and want their community to be a better place. When we appeal to our ideals instead of our fears, we are capable of great things. It’s a nice escape.
Archive 
February 3, 2020
What I’m listening to: 
Spending 21 hours on airplanes (Singapore to Tokyo to Boston) provides lots of time for listening and in an airport shop I picked up a Rolling Stones magazine that listed the top ten albums of the last ten years. I’ve been systematically working through them, starting with Kanye West’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. I just don’t know enough about hip hop and rap to offer any intelligent analysis of the music, and I have always thought of Kanye as kind of crazy (that may still be true), but the music is layered and extravagant and genre-bending. The lyrics seem fascinating and self-reflective, especially around fame and excess and Kanye’s specialty, self-promoting aggrandizement. Too many people I know remain stuck in the music of their youth and while I love those songs too, it feels important to listen to today’s music and what it has to tell us about life and lives far different than our own. And in a case like Twisted Fantasy, it’s just great music and that’s its own justification.
What I’m reading: 
I went back to an old favorite, Richard Russo’s Straight Man. If you work in academia, this is a must-read and while written 22 years ago, it still rings true and current. The “hero” of the novel is William Henry Devereaux Jr., the chair of the English Department in a second-tier public university in small-town Pennsylvania. The book is laugh aloud funny (the opening chapter and story about old Red puts me in hysterics every time I read it) and like the best comedy, it taps into the complexity and pains of life in very substantial ways. Devereaux is insufferable in most ways and yet we root for him, mostly because A) he is so damn funny and B) is self-deprecating. But there is also a big heartedness in Russo’s writing and a recognition that everyone is the protagonist of their own story, and life’s essential dramas play out fully in the most modest of places and for the most ordinary of people. 
What I’m watching:
I can’t pretend to have an abiding interest in cheerleading, but I devoured the six-episode Netflix series Cheer, about the cheerleading squad at Navarro College, a small two-year college in rural Texas that is a cheerleading powerhouse, winning the National Championship 14 times under the direction of Coach Monica Aldama, the Bill Belichick of cheering. I have a new respect and admiration for the athleticism and demands of cheering (and wonder about the cavalier handling of injuries), but the series is about so much more. It’s about team, about love, about grit and perseverance, bravery, trust, about kids and growing up and loss, and…well, it’s about almost everything and it will make you laugh and cry and exult. It is just terrific.
January 2, 2020
What I’m listening to: 
I was never really an Amy Winehouse fan and I don’t listen to much jazz or blue-eyed soul. Recently, eight years after she died at only 27, I heard her single Tears Dry On Their Own and I was hooked (the song was on someone’s “ten things I’d want on a deserted island” list). Since then, I’ve been playing her almost every day. I started the documentary about her, Amy, and stopped. I didn’t much like her. Or, more accurately, I didn’t much like the signals of her own eventual destruction that were evident early on. I think it was D. H. Lawrence that once said “Trust the art, not the artist.” Sometimes it is better not to know too much and just relish the sheer artistry of the work. Winehouse’s Back to Black, which was named one of the best albums of 2007, is as fresh and painful and amazing 13 years later.
What I’m reading: 
Alan Bennett’s lovely novella An Uncommon Reader is a what-if tale, wondering what it would mean if Queen Elizabeth II suddenly became a reader. Because of a lucked upon book mobile on palace grounds, she becomes just that, much to the consternation of her staff and with all kinds of delicious consequences, including curiosity, imagination, self-awareness, and growing disregard for pomp. With an ill-framed suggestion, reading becomes writing and provides a surprise ending. For all of us who love books, this is a finely wrought and delightful love poem to the power of books for readers and writers alike. Imagine if all our leaders were readers (sigh).
What I’m watching:
I’m a huge fan of many things – The National, Boston sports teams, BMW motorcycles, Pho – but there is a stage of life, typically adolescence, when fandom changes the universe, provides a lens to finally understand the world and, more importantly, yourself, in profound ways. My wife Pat would say Joni Mitchell did that for her. Gurinder Chadha’s wonderful film Blinded By The Light captures the power of discovery when Javed, the son of struggling Pakistani immigrants in a dead end place during a dead end time (the Thatcher period, from which Britain has never recovered: see Brexit), hears Springsteen and is forever changed. The movie, sometimes musical, sometimes comedy, and often bubbling with energy, has more heft than it might seem at first. There is pain in a father struggling to retain his dignity while he fails to provide, the father and son tension in so many immigrant families (I lived some of that), and what it means to be an outsider in the only culture you actually have ever known. 
November 25, 2019
My pop picks are usually a combination of three things: what I am listening to, reading, and watching. But last week I happily combined all three. That is, I went to NYC last week and saw two shows. The first was Cyrano, starring Game of Thrones superstar Peter Dinklage in the title role, with Jasmine Cephas Jones as Roxanne. She was Peggy in the original Hamilton cast and has an amazing voice. The music was written by Aaron and Bryce Dessner, two members of my favorite band, The National, with lyrics by lead singer Matt Berninger and his wife Carin Besser. Erica Schmidt, Dinklage’s wife, directs. Edmond Rostand’s 1897 play is light, dated, and melodramatic, but this production was delightful. Dinklage owns the stage, a master, and his deep bass voice, not all that great for singing, but commanding in the delivery of every line, was somehow a plaintive and resonant counterpoint to Cephas Jones’ soaring voice. In the original Cyrano, the title character’s large nose marks him as outsider and ”other,” but Dinklage was born with achondroplasia, the cause of his dwarfism, and there is a kind of resonance in his performance that feels like pain not acted, but known. Deeply. It takes this rather lightweight play and gives it depth. Even if it didn’t, not everything has to be deep and profound – there is joy in seeing something executed so darn well. Cyrano was delightfully satisfying.
The other show was the much lauded Aaron Sorkin rendition of To Kill a Mockingbird, starring another actor at the very top of his game, Ed Harris. This is a Mockingbird for our times, one in which iconic Atticus Finch’s idealistic “you have to live in someone else’s skin” feels naive in the face of hateful racism and anti-Semitism. The Black characters in the play get more voice, if not agency, in the stage play than they do in the book, especially housekeeper Calpurnia, who voices incredulity at Finch’s faith in his neighbors and reminds us that he does not pay the price of his patience. She does. And Tom Robinson, the Black man falsely accused of rape – “convicted at the moment he was accused,” Whatever West Wing was for Sorkin – and I dearly loved that show – this is a play for a broken United States, where racism abounds and does so with sanction by those in power. As our daughter said, “I think Trump broke Aaron Sorkin.” It was as powerful a thing I’ve seen on stage in years.  
With both plays, I was reminded of the magic that is live theater. 
October 31, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
It drove his critics crazy that Obama was the coolest president we ever had and his summer 2019 playlist on Spotify simply confirms that reality. It has been on repeat for me. From Drake to Lizzo (God I love her) to Steely Dan to Raphael Saadiq to Sinatra (who I skip every time – I’m not buying the nostalgia), his carefully curated list reflects not only his infinite coolness, but the breadth of his interests and generosity of taste. I love the music, but I love even more the image of Michelle and him rocking out somewhere far from Washington’s madness, as much as I miss them both.
What I’m reading: 
I struggled with Christy Lefteri’s The Beekeeper of Aleppo for the first 50 pages, worried that she’d drag out every tired trope of Mid-Eastern society, but I fell for her main characters and their journey as refugees from Syria to England. Parts of this book were hard to read and very dark, because that is the plight of so many refugees and she doesn’t shy away from those realities and the enormous toll they take on displaced people. It’s a hard read, but there is light too – in resilience, in love, in friendships, the small tender gestures of people tossed together in a heartless world. Lefteri volunteered in Greek refugee programs, spent a lot of interviewing people, and the book feels true, and importantly, heartfelt.
What I’m watching:
Soap opera meets Shakespeare, deliciously malevolent and operatic, Succession has been our favorite series this season. Loosely based on the Murdochs and their media empire (don’t believe the denials), this was our must watch television on Sunday nights, filling the void left by Game of Thrones. The acting is over-the-top good, the frequent comedy dark, the writing brilliant, and the music superb. We found ourselves quoting lines after every episode. Like the hilarious; “You don’t hear much about syphilis these days. Very much the Myspace of STDs.” Watch it so we can talk about that season 2 finale.
August 30, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
I usually go to music here, but the New York Times new 1619 podcast is just terrific, as is the whole project, which observes the sale of the first enslaved human beings on our shores 400 years ago. The first episode, “The Fight for a True Democracy” is a remarkable overview (in a mere 44 minutes) of the centrality of racism and slavery in the American story over those 400 years. It should be mandatory listening in every high school in the country. I’m eager for the next episodes. Side note: I am addicted to The Daily podcast, which gives more color and detail to the NY Times stories I read in print (yes, print), and reminds me of how smart and thoughtful are those journalists who give us real news. We need them now more than ever.
What I’m reading: 
Colson Whitehead has done it again. The Nickel Boys, his new novel, is a worthy successor to his masterpiece The Underground Railroad, and because it is closer to our time, based on the real-life horrors of a Florida reform school, and written a time of resurgent White Supremacy, it hits even harder and with more urgency than its predecessor. Maybe because we can read Underground Railroad with a sense of “that was history,” but one can’t read Nickel Boys without the lurking feeling that such horrors persist today and the monsters that perpetrate such horrors walk among us. They often hold press conferences.
What I’m watching:
Queer Eye, the Netflix remake of the original Queer Eye for the Straight Guy some ten years later, is wondrously entertaining, but it also feels adroitly aligned with our dysfunctional times. Episode three has a conversation with Karamo Brown, one of the fab five, and a Georgia small town cop (and Trump supporter) that feels unscripted and unexpected and reminds us of how little actual conversation seems to be taking place in our divided country. Oh, for more car rides such as the one they take in that moment, when a chasm is bridged, if only for a few minutes. Set in the South, it is often a refreshing and affirming response to what it means to be male at a time of toxic masculinity and the overdue catharsis and pain of the #MeToo movement. Did I mention? It’s really fun.
July 1, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
The National remains my favorite band and probably 50% of my listening time is a National album or playlist. Their new album I Am Easy To Find feels like a turning point record for the band, going from the moody, outsider introspection and doubt of lead singer Matt Berninger to something that feels more adult, sophisticated, and wiser. I might have titled it Women Help The Band Grow Up. Matt is no longer the center of The National’s universe and he frequently cedes the mic to the many women who accompany and often lead on the long, their longest, album. They include Gail Ann Dorsey (who sang with Bowie for a long time), who is amazing, and a number of the songs were written by Carin Besser, Berninger’s wife. I especially love the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, the arrangements, and the sheer complexity and coherence of the work. It still amazes me when I meet someone who does not know The National. My heart breaks for them just a little.
What I’m reading: 
Pat Barker’s The Silence of the Girls is a retelling of Homer’s Iliad through the lens of a captive Trojan queen, Briseis. As a reviewer in The Atlantic writes, it answers the question “What does war mean to women?” We know the answer and it has always been true, whether it is the casual and assumed rape of captive women in this ancient war story or the use of rape in modern day Congo, Syria, or any other conflict zone. Yet literature almost never gives voice to the women – almost always minor characters at best — and their unspeakable suffering. Barker does it here for Briseis, for Hector’s wife Andromache, and for the other women who understand that the death of their men is tragedy, but what they then endure is worse. Think of it ancient literature having its own #MeToo moment. The NY Times’ Geraldine Brooks did not much like the novel. I did. Very much.
What I’m watching: 
The BBC-HBO limited series Years and Years is breathtaking, scary, and absolutely familiar. It’s as if Black Mirrorand Children of Men had a baby and it precisely captures the zeitgeist, the current sense that the world is spinning out of control and things are coming at us too fast. It is a near future (Trump has been re-elected and Brexit has occurred finally)…not dystopia exactly, but damn close. The closing scene of last week’s first episode (there are 6 episodes and it’s on every Monday) shows nuclear war breaking out between China and the U.S. Yikes! The scope of this show is wide and there is a big, baggy feel to it – but I love the ambition even if I’m not looking forward to the nightmares.
May 19, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
I usually go to music here, but I was really moved by this podcast of a Davis Brooks talk at the Commonwealth Club in Silicon Valley: https://www.commonwealthclub.org/events/archive/podcast/david-brooks-quest-moral-life.  While I have long found myself distant from his political stance, he has come through a dark night of the soul and emerged with a wonderful clarity about calling, community, and not happiness (that most superficial of goals), but fulfillment and meaning, found in community and human kinship of many kinds. I immediately sent it to my kids.
What I’m reading: 
Susan Orlean’s wonderful The Library Book, a love song to libraries told through the story of the LA Central Library.  It brought back cherished memories of my many hours in beloved libraries — as a kid in the Waltham Public Library, a high schooler in the Farber Library at Brandeis (Lil Farber years later became a mentor of mine), and the cathedral-like Bapst Library at BC when I was a graduate student. Yes, I was a nerd. This is a love song to books certainly, but a reminder that libraries are so, so much more.  It is a reminder that libraries are less about a place or being a repository of information and, like America at its best, an idea and ideal. By the way, oh to write like her.
What I’m watching: 
What else? Game of Thrones, like any sensible human being. This last season is disappointing in many ways and the drop off in the writing post George R.R. Martin is as clear as was the drop off in the post-Sorkin West Wing. I would be willing to bet that if Martin has been writing the last season, Sansa and Tyrion would have committed suicide in the crypt. That said, we fans are deeply invested and even the flaws are giving us so much to discuss and debate. In that sense, the real gift of this last season is the enjoyment between episodes, like the old pre-streaming days when we all arrived at work after the latest episode of the Sopranos to discuss what we had all seen the night before. I will say this, the last two episodes — full of battle and gore – have been visually stunning. Whether the torches of the Dothraki being extinguished in the distance or Arya riding through rubble and flame on a white horse, rarely has the series ascended to such visual grandeur.
March 28, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
There is a lovely piece played in a scene from A Place Called Home that I tracked down. It’s Erik Satie’s 3 Gymnopédies: Gymnopédie No. 1, played by the wonderful pianist Klára Körmendi. Satie composed this piece in 1888 and it was considered avant-garde and anti-Romantic. It’s minimalism and bit of dissonance sound fresh and contemporary to my ears and while not a huge Classical music fan, I’ve fallen in love with the Körmendi playlist on Spotify. When you need an alternative to hours of Cardi B.
What I’m reading: 
Just finished Esi Edugyan’s 2018 novel Washington Black. Starting on a slave plantation in Barbados, it is a picaresque novel that has elements of Jules Verne, Moby Dick, Frankenstein, and Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad. Yes, it strains credulity and there are moments of “huh?”, but I loved it (disclosure: I was in the minority among my fellow book club members) and the first third is a searing depiction of slavery. It’s audacious, sprawling (from Barbados to the Arctic to London to Africa), and the writing, especially about nature, luminous. 
What I’m watching: 
A soap opera. Yes, I’d like to pretend it’s something else, but we are 31 episodes into the Australian drama A Place Called Home and we are so, so addicted. Like “It’s  AM, but can’t we watch just one more episode?” addicted. Despite all the secrets, cliff hangers, intrigue, and “did that just happen?” moments, the core ingredients of any good soap opera, APCH has superb acting, real heft in terms of subject matter (including homophobia, anti-Semitism, sexual assault, and class), touches of our beloved Downton Abbey, and great cars. Beware. If you start, you won’t stop.
February 11, 2019
What I’m listening to:
Raphael Saadiq has been around for quite a while, as a musician, writer, and producer. He’s new to me and I love his old school R&B sound. Like Leon Bridges, he brings a contemporary freshness to the genre, sounding like a young Stevie Wonder (listen to “You’re The One That I Like”). Rock and Roll may be largely dead, but R&B persists – maybe because the former was derivative of the latter and never as good (and I say that as a Rock and Roll fan). I’m embarrassed to only have discovered Saadiq so late in his career, but it’s a delight to have done so.
What I’m reading:
Just finished Marilynne Robinson’s Home, part of her trilogy that includes the Pulitzer Prize winning first novel, Gilead, and the book after Home, Lila. Robinson is often described as a Christian writer, but not in a conventional sense. In this case, she gives us a modern version of the prodigal son and tells the story of what comes after he is welcomed back home. It’s not pretty. Robinson is a self-described Calvinist, thus character begets fate in Robinson’s world view and redemption is at best a question. There is something of Faulkner in her work (I am much taken with his famous “The past is never past” quote after a week in the deep South), her style is masterful, and like Faulkner, she builds with these three novels a whole universe in the small town of Gilead. Start with Gilead to better enjoy Home.
What I’m watching:
Sex Education was the most fun series we’ve seen in ages and we binged watched it on Netflix. A British homage to John Hughes films like The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Pretty in Pink, it feels like a mash up of American and British high schools. Focusing on the relationship of Maeve, the smart bad girl, and Otis, the virginal and awkward son of a sex therapist (played with brilliance by Gillian Anderson), it is laugh aloud funny and also evolves into more substance and depth (the abortion episode is genius). The sex scenes are somehow raunchy and charming and inoffensive at the same time and while ostensibly about teenagers (it feels like it is explaining contemporary teens to adults in many ways), the adults are compelling in their good and bad ways. It has been renewed for a second season, which is a gift.
January 3, 2019
What I’m listening to:
My listening choices usually refer to music, but this time I’m going with Malcolm Gladwell’s Revisionist History podcast on genius and the song Hallelujah. It tells the story of Leonard Cohen’s much-covered song Hallelujah and uses it as a lens on kinds of genius and creativity. Along the way, he brings in Picasso and Cézanne, Elvis Costello, and more. Gladwell is a good storyteller and if you love pop music, as I do, and Hallelujah, as I do (and you should), you’ll enjoy this podcast. We tend to celebrate the genius who seems inspired in the moment, creating new work like lightning strikes, but this podcast has me appreciating incremental creativity in a new way. It’s compelling and fun at the same time.
What I’m reading:
Just read Clay Christensen’s new book, The Prosperity Paradox: How Innovation Can Lift Nations Out of Poverty. This was an advance copy, so soon available. Clay is an old friend and a huge influence on how we have grown SNHU and our approach to innovation. This book is so compelling, because we know attempts at development have so often been a failure and it is often puzzling to understand why some countries with desperate poverty and huge challenges somehow come to thrive (think S. Korea, Singapore, 19th C. America), while others languish. Clay offers a fresh way of thinking about development through the lens of his research on innovation and it is compelling. I bet this book gets a lot of attention, as most of his work does. I also suspect that many in the development community will hate it, as it calls into question the approach and enormous investments we have made in an attempt to lift countries out of poverty. A provocative read and, as always, Clay is a good storyteller.
What I’m watching:
Just watched Leave No Trace and should have guessed that it was directed by Debra Granik. She did Winter’s Bone, the extraordinary movie that launched Jennifer Lawrence’s career. Similarly, this movie features an amazing young actor, Thomasin McKenzie, and visits lives lived on the margins. In this case, a veteran suffering PTSD, and his 13-year-old daughter. The movie is patient, is visually lush, and justly earned 100% on Rotten Tomatoes (I have a rule to never watch anything under 82%). Everything in this film is under control and beautifully understated (aside from the visuals) – confident acting, confident directing, and so humane. I love the lack of flashbacks, the lack of sensationalism – the movie trusts the viewer, rare in this age of bombast. A lovely film.
December 4, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Spending a week in New Zealand, we had endless laughs listening to the Kiwi band, Flight of the Conchords. Lots of comedic bands are funny, but the music is only okay or worse. These guys are funny – hysterical really – and the music is great. They have an uncanny ability to parody almost any style. In both New Zealand and Australia, we found a wry sense of humor that was just delightful and no better captured than with this duo. You don’t have to be in New Zealand to enjoy them.
What I’m reading:
I don’t often reread. For two reasons: A) I have so many books on my “still to be read” pile that it seems daunting to also rereadbooks I loved before, and B) it’s because I loved them once that I’m a little afraid to read them again. That said, I was recently asked to list my favorite book of all time and I answered Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. But I don’t really know if that’s still true (and it’s an impossible question anyway – favorite book? On what day? In what mood?), so I’m rereading it and it feels like being with an old friend. It has one of my very favorite scenes ever: the card game between Levin and Kitty that leads to the proposal and his joyous walking the streets all night.
What I’m watching:
Blindspotting is billed as a buddy-comedy. Wow does that undersell it and the drama is often gripping. I loved Daveed Diggs in Hamilton, didn’t like his character in Black-ish, and think he is transcendent in this film he co-wrote with Rafael Casal, his co-star.  The film is a love song to Oakland in many ways, but also a gut-wrenching indictment of police brutality, systemic racism and bias, and gentrification. The film has the freshness and raw visceral impact of Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing. A great soundtrack, genre mixing, and energy make it one of my favorite movies of 2018.
October 15, 2018 
What I’m listening to:
We had the opportunity to see our favorite band, The National, live in Dallas two weeks ago. Just after watching Mistaken for Strangers, the documentary sort of about the band. So we’ve spent a lot of time going back into their earlier work, listening to songs we don’t know well, and reaffirming that their musicality, smarts, and sound are both original and astoundingly good. They did not disappoint in concert and it is a good thing their tour ended, as we might just spend all of our time and money following them around. Matt Berninger is a genius and his lead vocals kill me (and because they are in my range, I can actually sing along!). Their arrangements are profoundly good and go right to whatever brain/heart wiring that pulls one in and doesn’t let them go.
What I’m reading:
Who is Richard Powers and why have I only discovered him now, with his 12th book? Overstory is profoundly good, a book that is essential and powerful and makes me look at my everyday world in new ways. In short, a dizzying example of how powerful can be narrative in the hands of a master storyteller. I hesitate to say it’s the best environmental novel I’ve ever read (it is), because that would put this book in a category. It is surely about the natural world, but it is as much about we humans. It’s monumental and elegiac and wondrous at all once. Cancel your day’s schedule and read it now. Then plant a tree. A lot of them.
What I’m watching:
Bo Burnham wrote and directed Eighth Grade and Elsie Fisher is nothing less than amazing as its star (what’s with these new child actors; see Florida Project). It’s funny and painful and touching. It’s also the single best film treatment that I have seen of what it means to grow up in a social media shaped world. It’s a reminder that growing up is hard. Maybe harder now in a world of relentless, layered digital pressure to curate perfect lives that are far removed from the natural messy worlds and selves we actually inhabit. It’s a well-deserved 98% on Rotten Tomatoes and I wonder who dinged it for the missing 2%.
September 7, 2018
What I’m listening to:
With a cover pointing back to the Beastie Boys’ 1986 Licensed to Ill, Eminem’s quietly released Kamikaze is not my usual taste, but I’ve always admired him for his “all out there” willingness to be personal, to call people out, and his sheer genius with language. I thought Daveed Diggs could rap fast, but Eminem is supersonic at moments, and still finds room for melody. Love that he includes Joyner Lucas, whose “I’m Not Racist” gets added to the growing list of simply amazing music videos commenting on race in America. There are endless reasons why I am the least likely Eminem fan, but when no one is around to make fun of me, I’ll put it on again.
What I’m reading:
Lesley Blume’s Everyone Behaves Badly, which is the story behind Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises and his time in 1920s Paris (oh, what a time – see Midnight in Paris if you haven’t already). Of course, Blume disabuses my romantic ideas of that time and place and everyone is sort of (or profoundly so) a jerk, especially…no spoiler here…Hemingway. That said, it is a compelling read and coming off the Henry James inspired prose of Mrs. Osmond, it made me appreciate more how groundbreaking was Hemingway’s modern prose style. Like his contemporary Picasso, he reinvented the art and it can be easy to forget, these decades later, how profound was the change and its impact. And it has bullfights.
What I’m watching:
Chloé Zhao’s The Rider is just exceptional. It’s filmed on the Pine Ridge Reservation, which provides a stunning landscape, and it feels like a classic western reinvented for our times. The main characters are played by the real-life people who inspired this narrative (but feels like a documentary) film. Brady Jandreau, playing himself really, owns the screen. It’s about manhood, honor codes, loss, and resilience – rendered in sensitive, nuanced, and heartfelt ways. It feels like it could be about large swaths of America today. Really powerful.
August 16, 2018
What I’m listening to:
In my Spotify Daily Mix was Percy Sledge’s When A Man Loves A Woman, one of the world’s greatest love songs. Go online and read the story of how the song was discovered and recorded. There are competing accounts, but Sledge said he improvised it after a bad breakup. It has that kind of aching spontaneity. It is another hit from Muscle Shoals, Alabama, one of the GREAT music hotbeds, along with Detroit, Nashville, and Memphis. Our February Board meeting is in Alabama and I may finally have to do the pilgrimage road trip to Muscle Shoals and then Memphis, dropping in for Sunday services at the church where Rev. Al Green still preaches and sings. If the music is all like this, I will be saved.
What I’m reading:
John Banville’s Mrs. Osmond, his homage to literary idol Henry James and an imagined sequel to James’ 1881 masterpiece Portrait of a Lady. Go online and read the first paragraph of Chapter 25. He is…profoundly good. Makes me want to never write again, since anything I attempt will feel like some other, lowly activity in comparison to his mastery of language, image, syntax. This is slow reading, every sentence to be savored.
What I’m watching:
I’ve always respected Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, but we just watched the documentary RGB. It is over-the-top great and she is now one of my heroes. A superwoman in many ways and the documentary is really well done. There are lots of scenes of her speaking to crowds and the way young women, especially law students, look at her is touching.  And you can’t help but fall in love with her now late husband Marty. See this movie and be reminded of how important is the Law.
July 23, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Spotify’s Summer Acoustic playlist has been on repeat quite a lot. What a fun way to listen to artists new to me, including The Paper Kites, Hollow Coves, and Fleet Foxes, as well as old favorites like Leon Bridges and Jose Gonzalez. Pretty chill when dialing back to a summer pace, dining on the screen porch or reading a book.
What I’m reading:
Bryan Stevenson’s Just Mercy. Founder of the Equal Justice Initiative, Stevenson tells of the racial injustice (and the war on the poor our judicial system perpetuates as well) that he discovered as a young graduate from Harvard Law School and his fight to address it. It is in turn heartbreaking, enraging, and inspiring. It is also about mercy and empathy and justice that reads like a novel. Brilliant.
What I’m watching:
Fauda. We watched season one of this Israeli thriller. It was much discussed in Israel because while it focuses on an ex-special agent who comes out of retirement to track down a Palestinian terrorist, it was willing to reveal the complexity, richness, and emotions of Palestinian lives. And the occasional brutality of the Israelis. Pretty controversial stuff in Israel. Lior Raz plays Doron, the main character, and is compelling and tough and often hard to like. He’s a mess. As is the world in which he has to operate. We really liked it, and also felt guilty because while it may have been brave in its treatment of Palestinians within the Israeli context, it falls back into some tired tropes and ultimately falls short on this front.
June 11, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Like everyone else, I’m listening to Pusha T drop the mic on Drake. Okay, not really, but do I get some points for even knowing that? We all walk around with songs that immediately bring us back to a time or a place. Songs are time machines. We are coming up on Father’s Day. My own dad passed away on Father’s Day back in 1994 and I remembering dutifully getting through the wake and funeral and being strong throughout. Then, sitting alone in our kitchen, Don Henley’s The End of the Innocence came on and I lost it. When you lose a parent for the first time (most of us have two after all) we lose our innocence and in that passage, we suddenly feel adult in a new way (no matter how old we are), a longing for our own childhood, and a need to forgive and be forgiven. Listen to the lyrics and you’ll understand. As Wordsworth reminds us in In Memoriam, there are seasons to our grief and, all these years later, this song no longer hits me in the gut, but does transport me back with loving memories of my father. I’ll play it Father’s Day.
What I’m reading:
The Fifth Season, by N. K. Jemisin. I am not a reader of fantasy or sci-fi, though I understand they can be powerful vehicles for addressing the very real challenges of the world in which we actually live. I’m not sure I know of a more vivid and gripping illustration of that fact than N. K. Jemisin’s Hugo Award winning novel The Fifth Season, first in her Broken Earth trilogy. It is astounding. It is the fantasy parallel to The Underground Railroad, my favorite recent read, a depiction of subjugation, power, casual violence, and a broken world in which our hero(s) struggle, suffer mightily, and still, somehow, give us hope. It is a tour de force book. How can someone be this good a writer? The first 30 pages pained me (always with this genre, one must learn a new, constructed world, and all of its operating physics and systems of order), and then I could not put it down. I panicked as I neared the end, not wanting to finish the book, and quickly ordered the Obelisk Gate, the second novel in the trilogy, and I can tell you now that I’ll be spending some goodly portion of my weekend in Jemisin’s other world.
What I’m watching:
The NBA Finals and perhaps the best basketball player of this generation. I’ve come to deeply respect LeBron James as a person, a force for social good, and now as an extraordinary player at the peak of his powers. His superhuman play during the NBA playoffs now ranks with the all-time greats, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, MJ, Kobe, and the demi-god that was Bill Russell. That his Cavs lost in a 4-game sweep is no surprise. It was a mediocre team being carried on the wide shoulders of James (and matched against one of the greatest teams ever, the Warriors, and the Harry Potter of basketball, Steph Curry) and, in some strange way, his greatness is amplified by the contrast with the rest of his team. It was a great run.
May 24, 2018
What I’m listening to:
I’ve always liked Alicia Keys and admired her social activism, but I am hooked on her last album Here. This feels like an album finally commensurate with her anger, activism, hope, and grit. More R&B and Hip Hop than is typical for her, I think this album moves into an echelon inhabited by a Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On or Beyonce’s Formation. Social activism and outrage rarely make great novels, but they often fuel great popular music. Here is a terrific example.
What I’m reading:
Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad may be close to a flawless novel. Winner of the 2017 Pulitzer, it chronicles the lives of two runaway slaves, Cora and Caeser, as they try to escape the hell of plantation life in Georgia.  It is an often searing novel and Cora is one of the great heroes of American literature. I would make this mandatory reading in every high school in America, especially in light of the absurd revisionist narratives of “happy and well cared for” slaves. This is a genuinely great novel, one of the best I’ve read, the magical realism and conflating of time periods lifts it to another realm of social commentary, relevance, and a blazing indictment of America’s Original Sin, for which we remain unabsolved.
What I’m watching:
I thought I knew about The Pentagon Papers, but The Post, a real-life political thriller from Steven Spielberg taught me a lot, features some of our greatest actors, and is so timely given the assault on our democratic institutions and with a presidency out of control. It is a reminder that a free and fearless press is a powerful part of our democracy, always among the first targets of despots everywhere. The story revolves around the legendary Post owner and D.C. doyenne, Katharine Graham. I had the opportunity to see her son, Don Graham, right after he saw the film, and he raved about Meryl Streep’s portrayal of his mother. Liked it a lot more than I expected.
April 27, 2018
What I’m listening to:
I mentioned John Prine in a recent post and then on the heels of that mention, he has released a new album, The Tree of Forgiveness, his first new album in ten years. Prine is beloved by other singer songwriters and often praised by the inscrutable God that is Bob Dylan.  Indeed, Prine was frequently said to be the “next Bob Dylan” in the early part of his career, though he instead carved out his own respectable career and voice, if never with the dizzying success of Dylan. The new album reflects a man in his 70s, a cancer survivor, who reflects on life and its end, but with the good humor and empathy that are hallmarks of Prine’s music. “When I Get To Heaven” is a rollicking, fun vision of what comes next and a pure delight. A charming, warm, and often terrific album.
What I’m reading:
I recently read Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko, on many people’s Top Ten lists for last year and for good reason. It is sprawling, multi-generational, and based in the world of Japanese occupied Korea and then in the Korean immigrant’s world of Oaska, so our key characters become “tweeners,” accepted in neither world. It’s often unspeakably sad, and yet there is resiliency and love. There is also intimacy, despite the time and geographic span of the novel. It’s breathtakingly good and like all good novels, transporting.
What I’m watching:
I adore Guillermo del Toro’s 2006 film, Pan’s Labyrinth, and while I’m not sure his Shape of Water is better, it is a worthy follow up to the earlier masterpiece (and more of a commercial success). Lots of critics dislike the film, but I’m okay with a simple retelling of a Beauty and the Beast love story, as predictable as it might be. The acting is terrific, it is visually stunning, and there are layers of pain as well as social and political commentary (the setting is the US during the Cold War) and, no real spoiler here, the real monsters are humans, the military officer who sees over the captured aquatic creature. It is hauntingly beautiful and its depiction of hatred to those who are different or “other” is painfully resonant with the time in which we live. Put this on your “must see” list.
March 18, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Sitting on a plane for hours (and many more to go; geez, Australia is far away) is a great opportunity to listen to new music and to revisit old favorites. This time, it is Lucy Dacus and her album Historians, the new sophomore release from a 22-year old indie artist that writes with relatable, real-life lyrics. Just on a second listen and while she insists this isn’t a break up record (as we know, 50% of all great songs are break up songs), it is full of loss and pain. Worth the listen so far. For the way back machine, it’s John Prine and In Spite of Ourselves (that title track is one of the great love songs of all time), a collection of duets with some of his “favorite girl singers” as he once described them. I have a crush on Iris Dement (for a really righteously angry song try her Wasteland of the Free), but there is also EmmyLou Harris, the incomparable Dolores Keane, and Lucinda Williams. Very different albums, both wonderful.
What I’m reading:
Jane Mayer’s New Yorker piece on Christopher Steele presents little that is new, but she pulls it together in a terrific and coherent whole that is illuminating and troubling at the same time. Not only for what is happening, but for the complicity of the far right in trying to discredit that which should be setting off alarm bells everywhere. Bob Mueller may be the most important defender of the democracy at this time. A must read.
What I’m watching:
Homeland is killing it this season and is prescient, hauntingly so. Russian election interference, a Bannon-style hate radio demagogue, alienated and gun toting militia types, and a president out of control. It’s fabulous, even if it feels awfully close to the evening news. 
March 8, 2018
What I’m listening to:
We have a family challenge to compile our Top 100 songs. It is painful. Only 100? No more than three songs by one artist? Wait, why is M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” on my list? Should it just be The Clash from whom she samples? Can I admit to guilty pleasure songs? Hey, it’s my list and I can put anything I want on it. So I’m listening to the list while I work and the song playing right now is Tom Petty’s “The Wild One, Forever,” a B-side single that was never a hit and that remains my favorite Petty song. Also, “Evangeline” by Los Lobos. It evokes a night many years ago, with friends at Pearl Street in Northampton, MA, when everyone danced well past 1AM in a hot, sweaty, packed club and the band was a revelation. Maybe the best music night of our lives and a reminder that one’s 100 Favorite Songs list is as much about what you were doing and where you were in your life when those songs were playing as it is about the music. It’s not a list. It’s a soundtrack for this journey.
What I’m reading:
Patricia Lockwood’s Priestdaddy was in the NY Times top ten books of 2017 list and it is easy to see why. Lockwood brings remarkable and often surprising imagery, metaphor, and language to her prose memoir and it actually threw me off at first. It then all became clear when someone told me she is a poet. The book is laugh aloud funny, which masks (or makes safer anyway) some pretty dark territory. Anyone who grew up Catholic, whether lapsed or not, will resonate with her story. She can’t resist a bawdy anecdote and her family provides some of the most memorable characters possible, especially her father, her sister, and her mother, who I came to adore. Best thing I’ve read in ages.
What I’m watching:
The Florida Project, a profoundly good movie on so many levels. Start with the central character, six-year old (at the time of the filming) Brooklynn Prince, who owns – I mean really owns – the screen. This is pure acting genius and at that age? Astounding. Almost as astounding is Bria Vinaite, who plays her mother. She was discovered on Instagram and had never acted before this role, which she did with just three weeks of acting lessons. She is utterly convincing and the tension between the child’s absolute wonder and joy in the world with her mother’s struggle to provide, to be a mother, is heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once. Willem Dafoe rightly received an Oscar nomination for his supporting role. This is a terrific movie.
February 12, 2018
What I’m listening to:
So, I have a lot of friends of age (I know you’re thinking 40s, but I just turned 60) who are frozen in whatever era of music they enjoyed in college or maybe even in their thirties. There are lots of times when I reach back into the catalog, since music is one of those really powerful and transporting senses that can take you through time (smell is the other one, though often underappreciated for that power). Hell, I just bought a turntable and now spending time in vintage vinyl shops. But I’m trying to take a lesson from Pat, who revels in new music and can as easily talk about North African rap music and the latest National album as Meet the Beatles, her first ever album. So, I’ve been listening to Kendrick Lamar’s Grammy winning Damn. While it may not be the first thing I’ll reach for on a winter night in Maine, by the fire, I was taken with it. It’s layered, political, and weirdly sensitive and misogynist at the same time, and it feels fresh and authentic and smart at the same time, with music that often pulled me from what I was doing. In short, everything music should do. I’m not a bit cooler for listening to Damn, but when I followed it with Steely Dan, I felt like I was listening to Lawrence Welk. A good sign, I think.
What I’m reading:
I am reading Walter Isaacson’s new biography of Leonardo da Vinci. I’m not usually a reader of biographies, but I’ve always been taken with Leonardo. Isaacson does not disappoint (does he ever?), and his subject is at once more human and accessible and more awe-inspiring in Isaacson’s capable hands. Gay, left-handed, vegetarian, incapable of finishing things, a wonderful conversationalist, kind, and perhaps the most relentlessly curious human being who has ever lived. Like his biographies of Steve Jobs and Albert Einstein, Isaacson’s project here is to show that genius lives at the intersection of science and art, of rationality and creativity. Highly recommend it.
What I’m watching:
We watched the This Is Us post-Super Bowl episode, the one where Jack finally buys the farm. I really want to hate this show. It is melodramatic and manipulative, with characters that mostly never change or grow, and it hooks me every damn time we watch it. The episode last Sunday was a tear jerker, a double whammy intended to render into a blubbering, tissue-crumbling pathetic mess anyone who has lost a parent or who is a parent. Sterling K. Brown, Ron Cephas Jones, the surprising Mandy Moore, and Milo Ventimiglia are hard not to love and last season’s episode that had only Brown and Cephas going to Memphis was the show at its best (they are by far the two best actors). Last week was the show at its best worst. In other words, I want to hate it, but I love it. If you haven’t seen it, don’t binge watch it. You’ll need therapy and insulin.
January 15, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Drive-By Truckers. Chris Stapleton has me on an unusual (for me) country theme and I discovered these guys to my great delight. They’ve been around, with some 11 albums, but the newest one is fascinating. It’s a deep dive into Southern alienation and the white working-class world often associated with our current president. I admire the willingness to lay bare, in kick ass rock songs, the complexities and pain at work among people we too quickly place into overly simple categories. These guys are brave, bold, and thoughtful as hell, while producing songs I didn’t expect to like, but that I keep playing. And they are coming to NH.
What I’m reading:
A textual analog to Drive-By Truckers by Chris Stapleton in many ways is Tony Horowitz’s 1998 Pulitzer Prize winning Confederates in the Attic. Ostensibly about the Civil War and the South’s ongoing attachment to it, it is prescient and speaks eloquently to the times in which we live (where every southern state but Virginia voted for President Trump). Often hilarious, it too surfaces complexities and nuance that escape a more recent, and widely acclaimed, book like Hillbilly Elegy. As a Civil War fan, it was also astonishing in many instances, especially when it blows apart long-held “truths” about the war, such as the degree to which Sherman burned down the south (he did not). Like D-B Truckers, Horowitz loves the South and the people he encounters, even as he grapples with its myths of victimhood and exceptionalism (and racism, which may be no more than the racism in the north, but of a different kind). Everyone should read this book and I’m embarrassed I’m so late to it.
What I’m watching:
David Letterman has a new Netflix show called “My Next Guest Needs No Introduction” and we watched the first episode, in which Letterman interviewed Barack Obama. It was extraordinary (if you don’t have Netflix, get it just to watch this show); not only because we were reminded of Obama’s smarts, grace, and humanity (and humor), but because we saw a side of Letterman we didn’t know existed. His personal reflections on Selma were raw and powerful, almost painful. He will do five more episodes with “extraordinary individuals” and if they are anything like the first, this might be the very best work of his career and one of the best things on television.
December 22, 2017
What I’m reading:
Just finished Sunjeev Sahota’s Year of the Runaways, a painful inside look at the plight of illegal Indian immigrant workers in Britain. It was shortlisted for 2015 Man Booker Prize and its transporting, often to a dark and painful universe, and it is impossible not to think about the American version of this story and the terrible way we treat the undocumented in our own country, especially now.
What I’m watching:
Season II of The Crown is even better than Season I. Elizabeth’s character is becoming more three-dimensional, the modern world is catching up with tradition-bound Britain, and Cold War politics offer more context and tension than we saw in Season I. Claire Foy, in her last season, is just terrific – one arched eye brow can send a message.
What I’m listening to:
A lot of Christmas music, but needing a break from the schmaltz, I’ve discovered Over the Rhine and their Christmas album, Snow Angels. God, these guys are good.
November 14, 2017
What I’m watching:
Guiltily, I watch the Patriots play every weekend, often building my schedule and plans around seeing the game. Why the guilt? I don’t know how morally defensible is football anymore, as we now know the severe damage it does to the players. We can’t pretend it’s all okay anymore. Is this our version of late decadent Rome, watching mostly young Black men take a terrible toll on each other for our mere entertainment?
What I’m reading:
Recently finished J.G. Ballard’s 2000 novel Super-Cannes, a powerful depiction of a corporate-tech ex-pat community taken over by a kind of psychopathology, in which all social norms and responsibilities are surrendered to residents of the new world community. Kept thinking about Silicon Valley when reading it. Pretty dark, dystopian view of the modern world and centered around a mass killing, troublingly prescient.
What I’m listening to:
Was never really a Lorde fan, only knowing her catchy (and smarter than you might first guess) pop hit “Royals” from her debut album. But her new album, Melodrama, is terrific and it doesn’t feel quite right to call this “pop.” There is something way more substantial going on with Lorde and I can see why many critics put this album at the top of their Best in 2017 list. Count me in as a huge fan.
November 3, 2017
What I’m reading: Just finished Celeste Ng’s Little Fires Everywhere, her breathtakingly good second novel. How is someone so young so wise? Her writing is near perfection and I read the book in two days, setting my alarm for 4:30AM so I could finish it before work.
What I’m watching: We just binge watched season two of Stranger Things and it was worth it just to watch Millie Bobbie Brown, the transcendent young actor who plays Eleven. The series is a delightful mash up of every great eighties horror genre you can imagine and while pretty dark, an absolute joy to watch.
What I’m listening to: I’m not a lover of country music (to say the least), but I love Chris Stapleton. His “The Last Thing I Needed, First Thing This Morning” is heartbreakingly good and reminds me of the old school country that played in my house as a kid. He has a new album and I can’t wait, but his From A Room: Volume 1 is on repeat for now.
September 26, 2017
What I’m reading:
Just finished George Saunder’s Lincoln in the Bardo. It took me a while to accept its cadence and sheer weirdness, but loved it in the end. A painful meditation on loss and grief, and a genuinely beautiful exploration of the intersection of life and death, the difficulty of letting go of what was, good and bad, and what never came to be.
What I’m watching:
HBO’s The Deuce. Times Square and the beginning of the porn industry in the 1970s, the setting made me wonder if this was really something I’d want to see. But David Simon is the writer and I’d read a menu if he wrote it. It does not disappoint so far and there is nothing prurient about it.
What I’m listening to:
The National’s new album Sleep Well Beast. I love this band. The opening piano notes of the first song, “Nobody Else Will Be There,” seize me & I’m reminded that no one else in music today matches their arrangement & musicianship. I’m adding “Born to Beg,” “Slow Show,” “I Need My Girl,” and “Runaway” to my list of favorite love songs.
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gabriellakirtonblog · 5 years
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Fitness Niche Ideas: How to Find the Right Fit for You
In online fitness, there are no barriers to entry. Anyone can get certified, rip off their shirt, snap a selfie, and call themselves a personal trainer on Instagram.
How’s a serious, hard-working fitness professional supposed to compete?
By finding the right fitness niche.
The online fitness market, though crowded and chaotic, has created unprecedented opportunity for trainers who 1) are good at what they do, and 2) successfully identify their fitness niche.
Why? Because when people feel paralyzed by countless options—as many fitness consumers do today—their lizard brains take over, and they look for any excuse to decide. When you establish your authority within a fitness niche, you give people in that niche an excuse to choose you.
Like it or not, people make purchase decisions based not on merit, but on simplicity. That goes for you, me, and every potential client out there.
I’ll give you an example. Years ago, when I was still single, my roommate moved out and took his TV with him. I needed to buy a new one.
I walked into the first electronics store I could find and found myself facing an entire wall of TVs, way too many for me to evaluate in any serious way. The salesman made it easy by asking me a simple question: “What do you like to watch?”
“Sports,” I said.
He told me I needed a TV with a good FPS rating. That’s frames per second, he explained, which quantifies how quickly images move on the screen, and how crisp they are.
So, on his advice, I bought a TV with a good FPS rating.
For all I knew, he could’ve been making this up, like the stereo salesman in Boogie Nights telling a customer “You need all that bass.” But I didn’t care. I brought the TV home, plugged it in, and it worked. It gave me moving pictures, in color, which is all I wanted.
Your training programs are like that wall of TVs. Just about any of them are good enough for most clients in most situations. So are lots of programs from lots of coaches.
Your goal is to give your prospects one simple reason that makes it easy for them to buy your program.
To do that in this evolving market, you need to stand out. You can’t stand out by trying to market the 99 percent of your skillset that makes you the same as every other personal trainer who helps people lose fat, build muscle, and have more energy.
It would be like the salesman in the electronics store saying to me, “How would you like a television that shows you moving pictures in color?”
Even if that’s all you want, the salesman has just told you there’s no way to choose among all those TVs.
But if you market the 1 percent that makes you different, you have an unprecedented opportunity.
In the words of Alex Cartmill, head coach for the Online Trainer Academy:
“The greatest marketing advantage you have, and will always have, is that there’s only one of you.”
And the best part? You don’t need a slick website, or a huge Instagram following, or thousands of email subscribers. You just need a small but faithful community that believes in you, and trusts you as their expert, because you’ve given them a reason to.
You need a fitness niche.
READ ALSO: How to Find Your Target Market for Personal Training
What is a fitness niche?
A fitness niche is a specialized area of expertise a trainer a) loves working in, b) gets really good at, and c) eventually becomes a well-known authority in.
At the Online Trainer Academy, we teach how to identify your fitness niche based on your 1 Percent Uniqueness Factor—the 1 percent that makes you different.
It’s especially important for online personal trainers.
In-person trainers benefit from something called location bias. In most markets, a person who’s ready to make a change will come to your gym if it’s the closest. You’ll rarely get clients willing to travel more than 20 minutes to train with you.
When you transition to online training, you typically lose that edge. (Although some online trainers maintain a local clientele.) Your 1 Percent Uniqueness Factor is the only competitive advantage you have. It’s what sets you apart and gives you an uncommon commonality with current and future clients.
More to the point, it’s the reason why you’re the obvious choice for the right person, and the wrong choice for the wrong person.
Examples of successful niche fitness markets
OTA graduates have had success in a long list of fitness niches: older clients, kids, recreational athletes. Some appeal to people based on their professions or hobbies.
One standout example is Troy Bennett.
Troy is heavily involved in the Chicago cosplay community, and he markets himself as the go-to trainer for people in that space. He may be the only personal trainer in the world who targets that market.
As a result, he got his first five clients basically overnight. Nobody asked him about price. They just signed up.
Other prime examples of OTA grads with successful fitness niche markets:
Michael Sotos provides online coaching for superhero fans.
Jessi McAllister helps women get healthy and strong in preparation for pregnancy.
Marc Locquiao trains police officers to pass their physical fitness exams.
Mike Macdonald works with members of the LGBTQ community.
Nadja Tapkas creates personalized programs for triathletes.
Ray Graber works with people battling chronic illnesses, having battled one himself.
And while he’s not an OTA grad, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Trevor Bunch, who runs a thriving business training amputees. (He’s an amputee himself.)
In all these cases, trainers were able to use something they were already interested in or passionate about to build a deeper connection with clients.
Clients purchased their services based on that connection. The decision had nothing to do with merit. Like I said earlier, purchase decisions rarely do.
Illogical? Maybe. But it’s the truth. You can hate the game, or you can understand the rules and bend them to your advantage.
If you don’t, others will.
How to find your fitness niche
Finding your fitness niche requires in-depth reflection on who you are and who you like working with. As you can imagine, that kind of self-analysis takes time.
The journey is different for everyone, but in general I recommend following four steps.
1. Work with a large, diverse clientele
For trainers just starting out, it’s best to get a job at a large gym with a big marketing budget, where you’ll train a broad variety of people.
Yes, you’ll need to bust your butt for a little while. That’s the process. That’s how you get good. Casting a wide net helps you figure out who you like working with, and (just as important) who you don’t.
READ ALSO: Where to Work as a Personal Trainer
2. Talk to people
Interact with people, both online and in person. Have real conversations. Create opportunities to show yourself and be yourself.
Pay attention to the types of people you attract. That’s what marketing is, ultimately: connecting with people in a way they haven’t connected before.
You can start by joining online communities that resonate with you. How do they interact? Who’s the focal point of the group, and how did they achieve that status?
If you can’t find a community that suits your interests or meets your needs, consider creating one. Become the group’s focal point. The expert.
3. Decide who you want to work with
It’s time to step back and say, “Who do I really want to work with? What do I really love? What really lights me up?”
Another approach is to ask, “Who really needs my help? Who’s most likely to get the best results from training with me?”
Maybe it’s one of the communities you work with now. But maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s something completely different. When you move your personal training online, it’s your choice.
Your best strategy is to start with just one niche market. You can target multiple markets eventually, but for now you want to immerse yourself in the one you’re most interested in, and the one that’s most interested in you. Develop a deep understanding of who they are, what they want, and which platform is best for marketing to them.
4. Refine your fitness niche over time
Most successful online coaches start with preconceived ideas about their target audience. They fumble around, talk to people, and tweak their business plan accordingly.
You should always be ready to pivot. You never know exactly what type of client you’ll attract, or who’ll have the most success with your program, until you get some clients and start training them. They may be different from the ones you thought would be most interested. Or you may find you do best with a subset of the niche, one you weren’t aware of or hadn’t considered as your target audience.
Use this information to refine your niche, and to more clearly focus your marketing to appeal to them.
Fitness niche ideas to get you started
Your options are nearly infinite. The trick is to find the fitness niche that’s uniquely you, the one that allows you to connect with clients through shared experiences. If you were to describe yourself with a single phrase, what would it be?
Some examples:
An army veteran working with current and former military personnel
A new mom training other new moms
A trainer who used to be obese and works with clients who want to lose a significant amount of weight
An athlete who recovered from a common sports injury who helps others in the same situation
A Game of Thrones fan who teaches medieval sword fighting, and how to get in shape for it, to fellow GoT obsessives
Does this mean a male trainer can’t work with new moms? Or someone who doesn’t know why his clients call him “dancing master” can’t teach swordplay? Of course not. But it’s a simple fact that a new mom, or a military veteran, or someone who’s lost a lot of weight will have an easier time marketing to people like them.
You can connect on common ground. Your clients should feel like they “get” you, and you get them, because your stories resonate with each other.
Once you achieve good results for your first few clients, the referrals will start coming.
READ ALSO: Get More Clients with This Personal Training Referral Program
Think about it this way: To make $72,000 this year with online training, all you need is 30 clients paying you $200 a month.
What do you think is the best way to get and keep 30 paying clients? Will another 200 followers on Instagram make any difference?
Exactly.
I’m not saying it’s easy. Making a market is one of the hardest things to do, no matter what business you’re in. It’s never a simple, step-by-step process. We only think it is because humans are post-rationalizing beings. Something happens, it’s positive, and we post-rationalize a way to explain how it happened.
When we do, we forget all the little things that happened along the way. All the incidents, accidents, and near disasters. All the lucky breaks and unique circumstances we didn’t control.
Instead, we pick out the stuff that worked and post-rationalize it into a linear story of success.
I can’t tell you what that story will look like for you.
But I can tell you that the first step is always to try.
READ ALSO: How Much Should I Charge for Personal Training
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duaneodavila · 6 years
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All The News That’s Woke Enough To Print
For people born yesterday, the fury was about New York Times’ editorial writer Bari Weiss’ “racist” twit.
Mirai Nagasu was not an immigrant, though her parents were. So Weiss’ twit, a reference to the play Hamilton, was technically inaccurate. What it was not was mean or hateful. She lauded Nagasu’s achievement. It was positive toward immigrants. It checked a few boxes, but that wasn’t good enough.
The New York Times staff ripped her to shreds, as if she got caught with swastika tat under her pussy hat. From a transcript of the NYT internal chatroom:
sorry, but I felt that tweet denied Mirai her full citizenship just as the internment did. and nothing will be done because no one was offended! (since we don’t count)
This is where your most serious, most reliable news comes from? And…
on a related note, given the heightened political discourse around “free speech” where many people on the receiving end of criticism complain about being silenced, I don’t think there’s enough thought given to the way institutions/organizations/communities are structured to defacto silence people who are already most vulnerable to marginalization.
No one ever gets the irony of their freedom to complain about free speech. In any event, was this twit, or even Weiss’ failure to admit her heresy and repent, deserving of the outrage? Or were the claws out for her because of her ongoing heresy? After all, Weiss was a “proud feminist,” as she Gertruded.
Remember Bari Weiss’ op-ed about the Chicago Dyke March, where she was critical of the intersectionalism that forced Jewish lesbians out for making others feel unsafe? Or her op-ed about Aziz Ansari not being a mind reader? This was the twit that broke the camel’s back. No matter how hard Weiss tried to be a woke but rational feminist, she couldn’t thread that needle.
As Cathy Young writes, the twit may not have been as precise as some would want, but it wasn’t particularly wrong either.
But was Weiss’s tweet actually wrong? You could argue that it’s not uncommon to use “immigrants” as an umbrella term for both people who come to the U.S. from other countries and their American-born children—often called “second-generation immigrants.”
There are plenty of examples of such usage—and it’s not just a Jewish thing. A 2007 National Public Radio story about “black immigrants from Africa and the Caribbean” attending Ivy League universities included second-generation immigrants. Last year, the millennial-oriented website Mental Floss ran a piece on “immigrant success stories” from predominantly Muslim countries covered by Donald Trump’s travel ban which featured two immigrants and four people born to immigrant parents (among them Apple founder Steve Jobs).
Was the problem that her twit was so racist, so hateful, that it warranted SJW fury? Was it that Bari Weiss, despite her efforts to establish her bona fides as a “proud feminist,” never stood a chance, because there is no moderation, no rational middle allowed? Both? Was this twit that racist and awful?
Too racist for her “colleagues” the New York Times, who were silenced, marginalized and vulnerablized (that’s not a word) by their eyes being forced to see her celebration of Nagasu’s triple axel. But they already decided Bari Weiss needed to be burned at the stake for her heresy, and this merely lit the match.
Maybe it’s just Bari Weiss, you ask? Maybe they just don’t like her because she never says “hi” to the other writers, doesn’t share stories at Starbucks, never participates in the Secret Santa Holiday Anonymous Gift Giving game. Ironically, another women was also thrown under the New York Times delivery truck that same day.
Shortly after this conversation, [NYT Editorial Editor James] Bennet’s section announced it had hired Quinn Norton as a columnist. Almost instantly, Twitter users discovered that Norton had previously boasted about her friendships with neo-Nazis, among other troubling facts. That internal discussion was apparently taken to a much smaller, private Slack room. Seven hours and a considerable amount of Twitter furor later, the Times announced that it had decided to fire Norton.
Seven hours from hire to fire? It’s unlikely that Bennett didn’t know of Quinn Norton’s work, but that her association with trolls like weev and efforts to engage with Anonymous couldn’t withstand the withering scrutiny of the social justice scolds. Norton was seriously knowledgeable about the inside of hacker tech, but as an EFF friend explained:
She’s always been somewhat controversial, NYT knew that when they hired her, referencing some of her work in the initial announcement. But SJW twitter dug up tweets of hers that are consistent with her work that, when taken wholly out of context, make her appear to be a nazi-lover, a queer hater, etc. She isn’t (I know her well), but who the fuck cares about context on SJW twitter? NYT couldn’t take the heat.
Norton’s work inside the hacker community required her to engage with them, and in the course of doing so, she used the words they used, and they were bad words. No matter why, or what context they were used in. Good people never use bad words, you know, unless they’re bad people.
If you wonder why your news and opinion is largely provided by 23-year-old gender studies majors, it’s not just because they work dirt cheap. They’re also fully indoctrinated and lack sufficient life experience to have uttered a word, express a thought, that questioned the orthodoxy.
Quinn Norton knew her stuff really well, but never stood a chance. Bari Weiss tried so very hard to tell the silenced reporters at the New York Times that she wasn’t a bad person, she was really very social justice-y, but tempered with something they had never personally experienced: reason. Just as depth of knowledge didn’t save Norton, Gertruding didn’t save Weiss. And Bret Stephens wouldn’t stand a chance, but for the fact that he’s a white cishet male and thus a lost cause anyway.
Copyright © 2007-2018 Simple Justice NY, LLC This feed is for personal, non-commercial and Newstex use only. The use of this feed anywhere else violates copyright. If this content is not in your news reader, it means the page you are viewing infringes copyright. (Digital Fingerprint: 51981395c77d7762065ca2c084b63e47) All The News That’s Woke Enough To Print republished via Simple Justice
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thesnhuup · 4 years
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Pop Picks – February 3, 2020
What I’m listening to: 
Spending 21 hours on airplanes (Singapore to Tokyo to Boston) provides lots of time for listening and in an airport shop I picked up a Rolling Stones magazine that listed the top ten albums of the last ten years. I’ve been systematically working through them, starting with Kanye West’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. I just don’t know enough about hip hop and rap to offer any intelligent analysis of the music, and I have always thought of Kanye as kind of crazy (that may still be true), but the music is layered and extravagant and genre-bending. The lyrics seem fascinating and self-reflective, especially around fame and excess and Kanye’s specialty, self-promoting aggrandizement. Too many people I know remain stuck in the music of their youth and while I love those songs too, it feels important to listen to today’s music and what it has to tell us about life and lives far different than our own. And in a case like Twisted Fantasy, it’s just great music and that’s its own justification.
What I’m reading: 
I went back to an old favorite, Richard Russo’s Straight Man. If you work in academia, this is a must-read and while written 22 years ago, it still rings true and current. The “hero” of the novel is William Henry Devereaux Jr., the chair of the English Department in a second-tier public university in small-town Pennsylvania. The book is laugh aloud funny (the opening chapter and story about old Red puts me in hysterics every time I read it) and like the best comedy, it taps into the complexity and pains of life in very substantial ways. Devereaux is insufferable in most ways and yet we root for him, mostly because A) he is so damn funny and B) is self-deprecating. But there is also a big heartedness in Russo’s writing and a recognition that everyone is the protagonist of their own story, and life’s essential dramas play out fully in the most modest of places and for the most ordinary of people. 
What I’m watching:
I can’t pretend to have an abiding interest in cheerleading, but I devoured the six-episode Netflix series Cheer, about the cheerleading squad at Navarro College, a small two-year college in rural Texas that is a cheerleading powerhouse, winning the National Championship 14 times under the direction of Coach Monica Aldama, the Bill Belichick of cheering. I have a new respect and admiration for the athleticism and demands of cheering (and wonder about the cavalier handling of injuries), but the series is about so much more. It’s about team, about love, about grit and perseverance, bravery, trust, about kids and growing up and loss, and…well, it’s about almost everything and it will make you laugh and cry and exult. It is just terrific.
Archive 
January 2, 2020
What I’m listening to: 
I was never really an Amy Winehouse fan and I don’t listen to much jazz or blue-eyed soul. Recently, eight years after she died at only 27, I heard her single Tears Dry On Their Own and I was hooked (the song was on someone’s “ten things I’d want on a deserted island” list). Since then, I’ve been playing her almost every day. I started the documentary about her, Amy, and stopped. I didn’t much like her. Or, more accurately, I didn’t much like the signals of her own eventual destruction that were evident early on. I think it was D. H. Lawrence that once said “Trust the art, not the artist.” Sometimes it is better not to know too much and just relish the sheer artistry of the work. Winehouse’s Back to Black, which was named one of the best albums of 2007, is as fresh and painful and amazing 13 years later.
What I’m reading: 
Alan Bennett’s lovely novella An Uncommon Reader is a what-if tale, wondering what it would mean if Queen Elizabeth II suddenly became a reader. Because of a lucked upon book mobile on palace grounds, she becomes just that, much to the consternation of her staff and with all kinds of delicious consequences, including curiosity, imagination, self-awareness, and growing disregard for pomp. With an ill-framed suggestion, reading becomes writing and provides a surprise ending. For all of us who love books, this is a finely wrought and delightful love poem to the power of books for readers and writers alike. Imagine if all our leaders were readers (sigh).
What I’m watching:
I’m a huge fan of many things – The National, Boston sports teams, BMW motorcycles, Pho – but there is a stage of life, typically adolescence, when fandom changes the universe, provides a lens to finally understand the world and, more importantly, yourself, in profound ways. My wife Pat would say Joni Mitchell did that for her. Gurinder Chadha’s wonderful film Blinded By The Light captures the power of discovery when Javed, the son of struggling Pakistani immigrants in a dead end place during a dead end time (the Thatcher period, from which Britain has never recovered: see Brexit), hears Springsteen and is forever changed. The movie, sometimes musical, sometimes comedy, and often bubbling with energy, has more heft than it might seem at first. There is pain in a father struggling to retain his dignity while he fails to provide, the father and son tension in so many immigrant families (I lived some of that), and what it means to be an outsider in the only culture you actually have ever known. 
November 25, 2019
My pop picks are usually a combination of three things: what I am listening to, reading, and watching. But last week I happily combined all three. That is, I went to NYC last week and saw two shows. The first was Cyrano, starring Game of Thrones superstar Peter Dinklage in the title role, with Jasmine Cephas Jones as Roxanne. She was Peggy in the original Hamilton cast and has an amazing voice. The music was written by Aaron and Bryce Dessner, two members of my favorite band, The National, with lyrics by lead singer Matt Berninger and his wife Carin Besser. Erica Schmidt, Dinklage’s wife, directs. Edmond Rostand’s 1897 play is light, dated, and melodramatic, but this production was delightful. Dinklage owns the stage, a master, and his deep bass voice, not all that great for singing, but commanding in the delivery of every line, was somehow a plaintive and resonant counterpoint to Cephas Jones’ soaring voice. In the original Cyrano, the title character’s large nose marks him as outsider and ”other,” but Dinklage was born with achondroplasia, the cause of his dwarfism, and there is a kind of resonance in his performance that feels like pain not acted, but known. Deeply. It takes this rather lightweight play and gives it depth. Even if it didn’t, not everything has to be deep and profound – there is joy in seeing something executed so darn well. Cyrano was delightfully satisfying.
The other show was the much lauded Aaron Sorkin rendition of To Kill a Mockingbird, starring another actor at the very top of his game, Ed Harris. This is a Mockingbird for our times, one in which iconic Atticus Finch’s idealistic “you have to live in someone else’s skin” feels naive in the face of hateful racism and anti-Semitism. The Black characters in the play get more voice, if not agency, in the stage play than they do in the book, especially housekeeper Calpurnia, who voices incredulity at Finch’s faith in his neighbors and reminds us that he does not pay the price of his patience. She does. And Tom Robinson, the Black man falsely accused of rape – “convicted at the moment he was accused,” Whatever West Wing was for Sorkin – and I dearly loved that show – this is a play for a broken United States, where racism abounds and does so with sanction by those in power. As our daughter said, “I think Trump broke Aaron Sorkin.” It was as powerful a thing I’ve seen on stage in years.  
With both plays, I was reminded of the magic that is live theater. 
October 31, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
It drove his critics crazy that Obama was the coolest president we ever had and his summer 2019 playlist on Spotify simply confirms that reality. It has been on repeat for me. From Drake to Lizzo (God I love her) to Steely Dan to Raphael Saadiq to Sinatra (who I skip every time – I’m not buying the nostalgia), his carefully curated list reflects not only his infinite coolness, but the breadth of his interests and generosity of taste. I love the music, but I love even more the image of Michelle and him rocking out somewhere far from Washington’s madness, as much as I miss them both.
What I’m reading: 
I struggled with Christy Lefteri’s The Beekeeper of Aleppo for the first 50 pages, worried that she’d drag out every tired trope of Mid-Eastern society, but I fell for her main characters and their journey as refugees from Syria to England. Parts of this book were hard to read and very dark, because that is the plight of so many refugees and she doesn’t shy away from those realities and the enormous toll they take on displaced people. It’s a hard read, but there is light too – in resilience, in love, in friendships, the small tender gestures of people tossed together in a heartless world. Lefteri volunteered in Greek refugee programs, spent a lot of interviewing people, and the book feels true, and importantly, heartfelt.
What I’m watching:
Soap opera meets Shakespeare, deliciously malevolent and operatic, Succession has been our favorite series this season. Loosely based on the Murdochs and their media empire (don’t believe the denials), this was our must watch television on Sunday nights, filling the void left by Game of Thrones. The acting is over-the-top good, the frequent comedy dark, the writing brilliant, and the music superb. We found ourselves quoting lines after every episode. Like the hilarious; “You don’t hear much about syphilis these days. Very much the Myspace of STDs.” Watch it so we can talk about that season 2 finale.
August 30, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
I usually go to music here, but the New York Times new 1619 podcast is just terrific, as is the whole project, which observes the sale of the first enslaved human beings on our shores 400 years ago. The first episode, “The Fight for a True Democracy” is a remarkable overview (in a mere 44 minutes) of the centrality of racism and slavery in the American story over those 400 years. It should be mandatory listening in every high school in the country. I’m eager for the next episodes. Side note: I am addicted to The Daily podcast, which gives more color and detail to the NY Times stories I read in print (yes, print), and reminds me of how smart and thoughtful are those journalists who give us real news. We need them now more than ever.
What I’m reading: 
Colson Whitehead has done it again. The Nickel Boys, his new novel, is a worthy successor to his masterpiece The Underground Railroad, and because it is closer to our time, based on the real-life horrors of a Florida reform school, and written a time of resurgent White Supremacy, it hits even harder and with more urgency than its predecessor. Maybe because we can read Underground Railroad with a sense of “that was history,” but one can’t read Nickel Boys without the lurking feeling that such horrors persist today and the monsters that perpetrate such horrors walk among us. They often hold press conferences.
What I’m watching:
Queer Eye, the Netflix remake of the original Queer Eye for the Straight Guy some ten years later, is wondrously entertaining, but it also feels adroitly aligned with our dysfunctional times. Episode three has a conversation with Karamo Brown, one of the fab five, and a Georgia small town cop (and Trump supporter) that feels unscripted and unexpected and reminds us of how little actual conversation seems to be taking place in our divided country. Oh, for more car rides such as the one they take in that moment, when a chasm is bridged, if only for a few minutes. Set in the South, it is often a refreshing and affirming response to what it means to be male at a time of toxic masculinity and the overdue catharsis and pain of the #MeToo movement. Did I mention? It’s really fun.
July 1, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
The National remains my favorite band and probably 50% of my listening time is a National album or playlist. Their new album I Am Easy To Find feels like a turning point record for the band, going from the moody, outsider introspection and doubt of lead singer Matt Berninger to something that feels more adult, sophisticated, and wiser. I might have titled it Women Help The Band Grow Up. Matt is no longer the center of The National’s universe and he frequently cedes the mic to the many women who accompany and often lead on the long, their longest, album. They include Gail Ann Dorsey (who sang with Bowie for a long time), who is amazing, and a number of the songs were written by Carin Besser, Berninger’s wife. I especially love the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, the arrangements, and the sheer complexity and coherence of the work. It still amazes me when I meet someone who does not know The National. My heart breaks for them just a little.
What I’m reading: 
Pat Barker’s The Silence of the Girls is a retelling of Homer’s Iliad through the lens of a captive Trojan queen, Briseis. As a reviewer in The Atlantic writes, it answers the question “What does war mean to women?” We know the answer and it has always been true, whether it is the casual and assumed rape of captive women in this ancient war story or the use of rape in modern day Congo, Syria, or any other conflict zone. Yet literature almost never gives voice to the women – almost always minor characters at best — and their unspeakable suffering. Barker does it here for Briseis, for Hector’s wife Andromache, and for the other women who understand that the death of their men is tragedy, but what they then endure is worse. Think of it ancient literature having its own #MeToo moment. The NY Times’ Geraldine Brooks did not much like the novel. I did. Very much.
What I’m watching: 
The BBC-HBO limited series Years and Years is breathtaking, scary, and absolutely familiar. It’s as if Black Mirrorand Children of Men had a baby and it precisely captures the zeitgeist, the current sense that the world is spinning out of control and things are coming at us too fast. It is a near future (Trump has been re-elected and Brexit has occurred finally)…not dystopia exactly, but damn close. The closing scene of last week’s first episode (there are 6 episodes and it’s on every Monday) shows nuclear war breaking out between China and the U.S. Yikes! The scope of this show is wide and there is a big, baggy feel to it – but I love the ambition even if I’m not looking forward to the nightmares.
May 19, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
I usually go to music here, but I was really moved by this podcast of a Davis Brooks talk at the Commonwealth Club in Silicon Valley: https://www.commonwealthclub.org/events/archive/podcast/david-brooks-quest-moral-life.  While I have long found myself distant from his political stance, he has come through a dark night of the soul and emerged with a wonderful clarity about calling, community, and not happiness (that most superficial of goals), but fulfillment and meaning, found in community and human kinship of many kinds. I immediately sent it to my kids.
What I’m reading: 
Susan Orlean’s wonderful The Library Book, a love song to libraries told through the story of the LA Central Library.  It brought back cherished memories of my many hours in beloved libraries — as a kid in the Waltham Public Library, a high schooler in the Farber Library at Brandeis (Lil Farber years later became a mentor of mine), and the cathedral-like Bapst Library at BC when I was a graduate student. Yes, I was a nerd. This is a love song to books certainly, but a reminder that libraries are so, so much more.  It is a reminder that libraries are less about a place or being a repository of information and, like America at its best, an idea and ideal. By the way, oh to write like her.
What I’m watching: 
What else? Game of Thrones, like any sensible human being. This last season is disappointing in many ways and the drop off in the writing post George R.R. Martin is as clear as was the drop off in the post-Sorkin West Wing. I would be willing to bet that if Martin has been writing the last season, Sansa and Tyrion would have committed suicide in the crypt. That said, we fans are deeply invested and even the flaws are giving us so much to discuss and debate. In that sense, the real gift of this last season is the enjoyment between episodes, like the old pre-streaming days when we all arrived at work after the latest episode of the Sopranos to discuss what we had all seen the night before. I will say this, the last two episodes — full of battle and gore – have been visually stunning. Whether the torches of the Dothraki being extinguished in the distance or Arya riding through rubble and flame on a white horse, rarely has the series ascended to such visual grandeur.
March 28, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
There is a lovely piece played in a scene from A Place Called Home that I tracked down. It’s Erik Satie’s 3 Gymnopédies: Gymnopédie No. 1, played by the wonderful pianist Klára Körmendi. Satie composed this piece in 1888 and it was considered avant-garde and anti-Romantic. It’s minimalism and bit of dissonance sound fresh and contemporary to my ears and while not a huge Classical music fan, I’ve fallen in love with the Körmendi playlist on Spotify. When you need an alternative to hours of Cardi B.
What I’m reading: 
Just finished Esi Edugyan’s 2018 novel Washington Black. Starting on a slave plantation in Barbados, it is a picaresque novel that has elements of Jules Verne, Moby Dick, Frankenstein, and Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad. Yes, it strains credulity and there are moments of “huh?”, but I loved it (disclosure: I was in the minority among my fellow book club members) and the first third is a searing depiction of slavery. It’s audacious, sprawling (from Barbados to the Arctic to London to Africa), and the writing, especially about nature, luminous. 
What I’m watching: 
A soap opera. Yes, I’d like to pretend it’s something else, but we are 31 episodes into the Australian drama A Place Called Home and we are so, so addicted. Like “It’s  AM, but can’t we watch just one more episode?” addicted. Despite all the secrets, cliff hangers, intrigue, and “did that just happen?” moments, the core ingredients of any good soap opera, APCH has superb acting, real heft in terms of subject matter (including homophobia, anti-Semitism, sexual assault, and class), touches of our beloved Downton Abbey, and great cars. Beware. If you start, you won’t stop.
February 11, 2019
What I’m listening to:
Raphael Saadiq has been around for quite a while, as a musician, writer, and producer. He’s new to me and I love his old school R&B sound. Like Leon Bridges, he brings a contemporary freshness to the genre, sounding like a young Stevie Wonder (listen to “You’re The One That I Like”). Rock and Roll may be largely dead, but R&B persists – maybe because the former was derivative of the latter and never as good (and I say that as a Rock and Roll fan). I’m embarrassed to only have discovered Saadiq so late in his career, but it’s a delight to have done so.
What I’m reading:
Just finished Marilynne Robinson’s Home, part of her trilogy that includes the Pulitzer Prize winning first novel, Gilead, and the book after Home, Lila. Robinson is often described as a Christian writer, but not in a conventional sense. In this case, she gives us a modern version of the prodigal son and tells the story of what comes after he is welcomed back home. It’s not pretty. Robinson is a self-described Calvinist, thus character begets fate in Robinson’s world view and redemption is at best a question. There is something of Faulkner in her work (I am much taken with his famous “The past is never past” quote after a week in the deep South), her style is masterful, and like Faulkner, she builds with these three novels a whole universe in the small town of Gilead. Start with Gilead to better enjoy Home.
What I’m watching:
Sex Education was the most fun series we’ve seen in ages and we binged watched it on Netflix. A British homage to John Hughes films like The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Pretty in Pink, it feels like a mash up of American and British high schools. Focusing on the relationship of Maeve, the smart bad girl, and Otis, the virginal and awkward son of a sex therapist (played with brilliance by Gillian Anderson), it is laugh aloud funny and also evolves into more substance and depth (the abortion episode is genius). The sex scenes are somehow raunchy and charming and inoffensive at the same time and while ostensibly about teenagers (it feels like it is explaining contemporary teens to adults in many ways), the adults are compelling in their good and bad ways. It has been renewed for a second season, which is a gift.
January 3, 2019
What I’m listening to:
My listening choices usually refer to music, but this time I’m going with Malcolm Gladwell’s Revisionist History podcast on genius and the song Hallelujah. It tells the story of Leonard Cohen’s much-covered song Hallelujah and uses it as a lens on kinds of genius and creativity. Along the way, he brings in Picasso and Cézanne, Elvis Costello, and more. Gladwell is a good storyteller and if you love pop music, as I do, and Hallelujah, as I do (and you should), you’ll enjoy this podcast. We tend to celebrate the genius who seems inspired in the moment, creating new work like lightning strikes, but this podcast has me appreciating incremental creativity in a new way. It’s compelling and fun at the same time.
What I’m reading:
Just read Clay Christensen’s new book, The Prosperity Paradox: How Innovation Can Lift Nations Out of Poverty. This was an advance copy, so soon available. Clay is an old friend and a huge influence on how we have grown SNHU and our approach to innovation. This book is so compelling, because we know attempts at development have so often been a failure and it is often puzzling to understand why some countries with desperate poverty and huge challenges somehow come to thrive (think S. Korea, Singapore, 19th C. America), while others languish. Clay offers a fresh way of thinking about development through the lens of his research on innovation and it is compelling. I bet this book gets a lot of attention, as most of his work does. I also suspect that many in the development community will hate it, as it calls into question the approach and enormous investments we have made in an attempt to lift countries out of poverty. A provocative read and, as always, Clay is a good storyteller.
What I’m watching:
Just watched Leave No Trace and should have guessed that it was directed by Debra Granik. She did Winter’s Bone, the extraordinary movie that launched Jennifer Lawrence’s career. Similarly, this movie features an amazing young actor, Thomasin McKenzie, and visits lives lived on the margins. In this case, a veteran suffering PTSD, and his 13-year-old daughter. The movie is patient, is visually lush, and justly earned 100% on Rotten Tomatoes (I have a rule to never watch anything under 82%). Everything in this film is under control and beautifully understated (aside from the visuals) – confident acting, confident directing, and so humane. I love the lack of flashbacks, the lack of sensationalism – the movie trusts the viewer, rare in this age of bombast. A lovely film.
December 4, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Spending a week in New Zealand, we had endless laughs listening to the Kiwi band, Flight of the Conchords. Lots of comedic bands are funny, but the music is only okay or worse. These guys are funny – hysterical really – and the music is great. They have an uncanny ability to parody almost any style. In both New Zealand and Australia, we found a wry sense of humor that was just delightful and no better captured than with this duo. You don’t have to be in New Zealand to enjoy them.
What I’m reading:
I don’t often reread. For two reasons: A) I have so many books on my “still to be read” pile that it seems daunting to also rereadbooks I loved before, and B) it’s because I loved them once that I’m a little afraid to read them again. That said, I was recently asked to list my favorite book of all time and I answered Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. But I don’t really know if that’s still true (and it’s an impossible question anyway – favorite book? On what day? In what mood?), so I’m rereading it and it feels like being with an old friend. It has one of my very favorite scenes ever: the card game between Levin and Kitty that leads to the proposal and his joyous walking the streets all night.
What I’m watching:
Blindspotting is billed as a buddy-comedy. Wow does that undersell it and the drama is often gripping. I loved Daveed Diggs in Hamilton, didn’t like his character in Black-ish, and think he is transcendent in this film he co-wrote with Rafael Casal, his co-star.  The film is a love song to Oakland in many ways, but also a gut-wrenching indictment of police brutality, systemic racism and bias, and gentrification. The film has the freshness and raw visceral impact of Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing. A great soundtrack, genre mixing, and energy make it one of my favorite movies of 2018.
October 15, 2018 
What I’m listening to:
We had the opportunity to see our favorite band, The National, live in Dallas two weeks ago. Just after watching Mistaken for Strangers, the documentary sort of about the band. So we’ve spent a lot of time going back into their earlier work, listening to songs we don’t know well, and reaffirming that their musicality, smarts, and sound are both original and astoundingly good. They did not disappoint in concert and it is a good thing their tour ended, as we might just spend all of our time and money following them around. Matt Berninger is a genius and his lead vocals kill me (and because they are in my range, I can actually sing along!). Their arrangements are profoundly good and go right to whatever brain/heart wiring that pulls one in and doesn’t let them go.
What I’m reading:
Who is Richard Powers and why have I only discovered him now, with his 12th book? Overstory is profoundly good, a book that is essential and powerful and makes me look at my everyday world in new ways. In short, a dizzying example of how powerful can be narrative in the hands of a master storyteller. I hesitate to say it’s the best environmental novel I’ve ever read (it is), because that would put this book in a category. It is surely about the natural world, but it is as much about we humans. It’s monumental and elegiac and wondrous at all once. Cancel your day’s schedule and read it now. Then plant a tree. A lot of them.
What I’m watching:
Bo Burnham wrote and directed Eighth Grade and Elsie Fisher is nothing less than amazing as its star (what’s with these new child actors; see Florida Project). It’s funny and painful and touching. It’s also the single best film treatment that I have seen of what it means to grow up in a social media shaped world. It’s a reminder that growing up is hard. Maybe harder now in a world of relentless, layered digital pressure to curate perfect lives that are far removed from the natural messy worlds and selves we actually inhabit. It’s a well-deserved 98% on Rotten Tomatoes and I wonder who dinged it for the missing 2%.
September 7, 2018
What I’m listening to:
With a cover pointing back to the Beastie Boys’ 1986 Licensed to Ill, Eminem’s quietly released Kamikaze is not my usual taste, but I’ve always admired him for his “all out there” willingness to be personal, to call people out, and his sheer genius with language. I thought Daveed Diggs could rap fast, but Eminem is supersonic at moments, and still finds room for melody. Love that he includes Joyner Lucas, whose “I’m Not Racist” gets added to the growing list of simply amazing music videos commenting on race in America. There are endless reasons why I am the least likely Eminem fan, but when no one is around to make fun of me, I’ll put it on again.
What I’m reading:
Lesley Blume’s Everyone Behaves Badly, which is the story behind Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises and his time in 1920s Paris (oh, what a time – see Midnight in Paris if you haven’t already). Of course, Blume disabuses my romantic ideas of that time and place and everyone is sort of (or profoundly so) a jerk, especially…no spoiler here…Hemingway. That said, it is a compelling read and coming off the Henry James inspired prose of Mrs. Osmond, it made me appreciate more how groundbreaking was Hemingway’s modern prose style. Like his contemporary Picasso, he reinvented the art and it can be easy to forget, these decades later, how profound was the change and its impact. And it has bullfights.
What I’m watching:
Chloé Zhao’s The Rider is just exceptional. It’s filmed on the Pine Ridge Reservation, which provides a stunning landscape, and it feels like a classic western reinvented for our times. The main characters are played by the real-life people who inspired this narrative (but feels like a documentary) film. Brady Jandreau, playing himself really, owns the screen. It’s about manhood, honor codes, loss, and resilience – rendered in sensitive, nuanced, and heartfelt ways. It feels like it could be about large swaths of America today. Really powerful.
August 16, 2018
What I’m listening to:
In my Spotify Daily Mix was Percy Sledge’s When A Man Loves A Woman, one of the world’s greatest love songs. Go online and read the story of how the song was discovered and recorded. There are competing accounts, but Sledge said he improvised it after a bad breakup. It has that kind of aching spontaneity. It is another hit from Muscle Shoals, Alabama, one of the GREAT music hotbeds, along with Detroit, Nashville, and Memphis. Our February Board meeting is in Alabama and I may finally have to do the pilgrimage road trip to Muscle Shoals and then Memphis, dropping in for Sunday services at the church where Rev. Al Green still preaches and sings. If the music is all like this, I will be saved.
What I’m reading:
John Banville’s Mrs. Osmond, his homage to literary idol Henry James and an imagined sequel to James’ 1881 masterpiece Portrait of a Lady. Go online and read the first paragraph of Chapter 25. He is…profoundly good. Makes me want to never write again, since anything I attempt will feel like some other, lowly activity in comparison to his mastery of language, image, syntax. This is slow reading, every sentence to be savored.
What I’m watching:
I’ve always respected Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, but we just watched the documentary RGB. It is over-the-top great and she is now one of my heroes. A superwoman in many ways and the documentary is really well done. There are lots of scenes of her speaking to crowds and the way young women, especially law students, look at her is touching.  And you can’t help but fall in love with her now late husband Marty. See this movie and be reminded of how important is the Law.
July 23, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Spotify’s Summer Acoustic playlist has been on repeat quite a lot. What a fun way to listen to artists new to me, including The Paper Kites, Hollow Coves, and Fleet Foxes, as well as old favorites like Leon Bridges and Jose Gonzalez. Pretty chill when dialing back to a summer pace, dining on the screen porch or reading a book.
What I’m reading:
Bryan Stevenson’s Just Mercy. Founder of the Equal Justice Initiative, Stevenson tells of the racial injustice (and the war on the poor our judicial system perpetuates as well) that he discovered as a young graduate from Harvard Law School and his fight to address it. It is in turn heartbreaking, enraging, and inspiring. It is also about mercy and empathy and justice that reads like a novel. Brilliant.
What I’m watching:
Fauda. We watched season one of this Israeli thriller. It was much discussed in Israel because while it focuses on an ex-special agent who comes out of retirement to track down a Palestinian terrorist, it was willing to reveal the complexity, richness, and emotions of Palestinian lives. And the occasional brutality of the Israelis. Pretty controversial stuff in Israel. Lior Raz plays Doron, the main character, and is compelling and tough and often hard to like. He’s a mess. As is the world in which he has to operate. We really liked it, and also felt guilty because while it may have been brave in its treatment of Palestinians within the Israeli context, it falls back into some tired tropes and ultimately falls short on this front.
June 11, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Like everyone else, I’m listening to Pusha T drop the mic on Drake. Okay, not really, but do I get some points for even knowing that? We all walk around with songs that immediately bring us back to a time or a place. Songs are time machines. We are coming up on Father’s Day. My own dad passed away on Father’s Day back in 1994 and I remembering dutifully getting through the wake and funeral and being strong throughout. Then, sitting alone in our kitchen, Don Henley’s The End of the Innocence came on and I lost it. When you lose a parent for the first time (most of us have two after all) we lose our innocence and in that passage, we suddenly feel adult in a new way (no matter how old we are), a longing for our own childhood, and a need to forgive and be forgiven. Listen to the lyrics and you’ll understand. As Wordsworth reminds us in In Memoriam, there are seasons to our grief and, all these years later, this song no longer hits me in the gut, but does transport me back with loving memories of my father. I’ll play it Father’s Day.
What I’m reading:
The Fifth Season, by N. K. Jemisin. I am not a reader of fantasy or sci-fi, though I understand they can be powerful vehicles for addressing the very real challenges of the world in which we actually live. I’m not sure I know of a more vivid and gripping illustration of that fact than N. K. Jemisin’s Hugo Award winning novel The Fifth Season, first in her Broken Earth trilogy. It is astounding. It is the fantasy parallel to The Underground Railroad, my favorite recent read, a depiction of subjugation, power, casual violence, and a broken world in which our hero(s) struggle, suffer mightily, and still, somehow, give us hope. It is a tour de force book. How can someone be this good a writer? The first 30 pages pained me (always with this genre, one must learn a new, constructed world, and all of its operating physics and systems of order), and then I could not put it down. I panicked as I neared the end, not wanting to finish the book, and quickly ordered the Obelisk Gate, the second novel in the trilogy, and I can tell you now that I’ll be spending some goodly portion of my weekend in Jemisin’s other world.
What I’m watching:
The NBA Finals and perhaps the best basketball player of this generation. I’ve come to deeply respect LeBron James as a person, a force for social good, and now as an extraordinary player at the peak of his powers. His superhuman play during the NBA playoffs now ranks with the all-time greats, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, MJ, Kobe, and the demi-god that was Bill Russell. That his Cavs lost in a 4-game sweep is no surprise. It was a mediocre team being carried on the wide shoulders of James (and matched against one of the greatest teams ever, the Warriors, and the Harry Potter of basketball, Steph Curry) and, in some strange way, his greatness is amplified by the contrast with the rest of his team. It was a great run.
May 24, 2018
What I’m listening to:
I’ve always liked Alicia Keys and admired her social activism, but I am hooked on her last album Here. This feels like an album finally commensurate with her anger, activism, hope, and grit. More R&B and Hip Hop than is typical for her, I think this album moves into an echelon inhabited by a Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On or Beyonce’s Formation. Social activism and outrage rarely make great novels, but they often fuel great popular music. Here is a terrific example.
What I’m reading:
Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad may be close to a flawless novel. Winner of the 2017 Pulitzer, it chronicles the lives of two runaway slaves, Cora and Caeser, as they try to escape the hell of plantation life in Georgia.  It is an often searing novel and Cora is one of the great heroes of American literature. I would make this mandatory reading in every high school in America, especially in light of the absurd revisionist narratives of “happy and well cared for” slaves. This is a genuinely great novel, one of the best I’ve read, the magical realism and conflating of time periods lifts it to another realm of social commentary, relevance, and a blazing indictment of America’s Original Sin, for which we remain unabsolved.
What I’m watching:
I thought I knew about The Pentagon Papers, but The Post, a real-life political thriller from Steven Spielberg taught me a lot, features some of our greatest actors, and is so timely given the assault on our democratic institutions and with a presidency out of control. It is a reminder that a free and fearless press is a powerful part of our democracy, always among the first targets of despots everywhere. The story revolves around the legendary Post owner and D.C. doyenne, Katharine Graham. I had the opportunity to see her son, Don Graham, right after he saw the film, and he raved about Meryl Streep’s portrayal of his mother. Liked it a lot more than I expected.
April 27, 2018
What I’m listening to:
I mentioned John Prine in a recent post and then on the heels of that mention, he has released a new album, The Tree of Forgiveness, his first new album in ten years. Prine is beloved by other singer songwriters and often praised by the inscrutable God that is Bob Dylan.  Indeed, Prine was frequently said to be the “next Bob Dylan” in the early part of his career, though he instead carved out his own respectable career and voice, if never with the dizzying success of Dylan. The new album reflects a man in his 70s, a cancer survivor, who reflects on life and its end, but with the good humor and empathy that are hallmarks of Prine’s music. “When I Get To Heaven” is a rollicking, fun vision of what comes next and a pure delight. A charming, warm, and often terrific album.
What I’m reading:
I recently read Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko, on many people’s Top Ten lists for last year and for good reason. It is sprawling, multi-generational, and based in the world of Japanese occupied Korea and then in the Korean immigrant’s world of Oaska, so our key characters become “tweeners,” accepted in neither world. It’s often unspeakably sad, and yet there is resiliency and love. There is also intimacy, despite the time and geographic span of the novel. It’s breathtakingly good and like all good novels, transporting.
What I’m watching:
I adore Guillermo del Toro’s 2006 film, Pan’s Labyrinth, and while I’m not sure his Shape of Water is better, it is a worthy follow up to the earlier masterpiece (and more of a commercial success). Lots of critics dislike the film, but I’m okay with a simple retelling of a Beauty and the Beast love story, as predictable as it might be. The acting is terrific, it is visually stunning, and there are layers of pain as well as social and political commentary (the setting is the US during the Cold War) and, no real spoiler here, the real monsters are humans, the military officer who sees over the captured aquatic creature. It is hauntingly beautiful and its depiction of hatred to those who are different or “other” is painfully resonant with the time in which we live. Put this on your “must see” list.
March 18, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Sitting on a plane for hours (and many more to go; geez, Australia is far away) is a great opportunity to listen to new music and to revisit old favorites. This time, it is Lucy Dacus and her album Historians, the new sophomore release from a 22-year old indie artist that writes with relatable, real-life lyrics. Just on a second listen and while she insists this isn’t a break up record (as we know, 50% of all great songs are break up songs), it is full of loss and pain. Worth the listen so far. For the way back machine, it’s John Prine and In Spite of Ourselves (that title track is one of the great love songs of all time), a collection of duets with some of his “favorite girl singers” as he once described them. I have a crush on Iris Dement (for a really righteously angry song try her Wasteland of the Free), but there is also EmmyLou Harris, the incomparable Dolores Keane, and Lucinda Williams. Very different albums, both wonderful.
What I’m reading:
Jane Mayer’s New Yorker piece on Christopher Steele presents little that is new, but she pulls it together in a terrific and coherent whole that is illuminating and troubling at the same time. Not only for what is happening, but for the complicity of the far right in trying to discredit that which should be setting off alarm bells everywhere. Bob Mueller may be the most important defender of the democracy at this time. A must read.
What I’m watching:
Homeland is killing it this season and is prescient, hauntingly so. Russian election interference, a Bannon-style hate radio demagogue, alienated and gun toting militia types, and a president out of control. It’s fabulous, even if it feels awfully close to the evening news. 
March 8, 2018
What I’m listening to:
We have a family challenge to compile our Top 100 songs. It is painful. Only 100? No more than three songs by one artist? Wait, why is M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” on my list? Should it just be The Clash from whom she samples? Can I admit to guilty pleasure songs? Hey, it’s my list and I can put anything I want on it. So I’m listening to the list while I work and the song playing right now is Tom Petty’s “The Wild One, Forever,” a B-side single that was never a hit and that remains my favorite Petty song. Also, “Evangeline” by Los Lobos. It evokes a night many years ago, with friends at Pearl Street in Northampton, MA, when everyone danced well past 1AM in a hot, sweaty, packed club and the band was a revelation. Maybe the best music night of our lives and a reminder that one’s 100 Favorite Songs list is as much about what you were doing and where you were in your life when those songs were playing as it is about the music. It’s not a list. It’s a soundtrack for this journey.
What I’m reading:
Patricia Lockwood’s Priestdaddy was in the NY Times top ten books of 2017 list and it is easy to see why. Lockwood brings remarkable and often surprising imagery, metaphor, and language to her prose memoir and it actually threw me off at first. It then all became clear when someone told me she is a poet. The book is laugh aloud funny, which masks (or makes safer anyway) some pretty dark territory. Anyone who grew up Catholic, whether lapsed or not, will resonate with her story. She can’t resist a bawdy anecdote and her family provides some of the most memorable characters possible, especially her father, her sister, and her mother, who I came to adore. Best thing I’ve read in ages.
What I’m watching:
The Florida Project, a profoundly good movie on so many levels. Start with the central character, six-year old (at the time of the filming) Brooklynn Prince, who owns – I mean really owns – the screen. This is pure acting genius and at that age? Astounding. Almost as astounding is Bria Vinaite, who plays her mother. She was discovered on Instagram and had never acted before this role, which she did with just three weeks of acting lessons. She is utterly convincing and the tension between the child’s absolute wonder and joy in the world with her mother’s struggle to provide, to be a mother, is heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once. Willem Dafoe rightly received an Oscar nomination for his supporting role. This is a terrific movie.
February 12, 2018
What I’m listening to:
So, I have a lot of friends of age (I know you’re thinking 40s, but I just turned 60) who are frozen in whatever era of music they enjoyed in college or maybe even in their thirties. There are lots of times when I reach back into the catalog, since music is one of those really powerful and transporting senses that can take you through time (smell is the other one, though often underappreciated for that power). Hell, I just bought a turntable and now spending time in vintage vinyl shops. But I’m trying to take a lesson from Pat, who revels in new music and can as easily talk about North African rap music and the latest National album as Meet the Beatles, her first ever album. So, I’ve been listening to Kendrick Lamar’s Grammy winning Damn. While it may not be the first thing I’ll reach for on a winter night in Maine, by the fire, I was taken with it. It’s layered, political, and weirdly sensitive and misogynist at the same time, and it feels fresh and authentic and smart at the same time, with music that often pulled me from what I was doing. In short, everything music should do. I’m not a bit cooler for listening to Damn, but when I followed it with Steely Dan, I felt like I was listening to Lawrence Welk. A good sign, I think.
What I’m reading:
I am reading Walter Isaacson’s new biography of Leonardo da Vinci. I’m not usually a reader of biographies, but I’ve always been taken with Leonardo. Isaacson does not disappoint (does he ever?), and his subject is at once more human and accessible and more awe-inspiring in Isaacson’s capable hands. Gay, left-handed, vegetarian, incapable of finishing things, a wonderful conversationalist, kind, and perhaps the most relentlessly curious human being who has ever lived. Like his biographies of Steve Jobs and Albert Einstein, Isaacson’s project here is to show that genius lives at the intersection of science and art, of rationality and creativity. Highly recommend it.
What I’m watching:
We watched the This Is Us post-Super Bowl episode, the one where Jack finally buys the farm. I really want to hate this show. It is melodramatic and manipulative, with characters that mostly never change or grow, and it hooks me every damn time we watch it. The episode last Sunday was a tear jerker, a double whammy intended to render into a blubbering, tissue-crumbling pathetic mess anyone who has lost a parent or who is a parent. Sterling K. Brown, Ron Cephas Jones, the surprising Mandy Moore, and Milo Ventimiglia are hard not to love and last season’s episode that had only Brown and Cephas going to Memphis was the show at its best (they are by far the two best actors). Last week was the show at its best worst. In other words, I want to hate it, but I love it. If you haven’t seen it, don’t binge watch it. You’ll need therapy and insulin.
January 15, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Drive-By Truckers. Chris Stapleton has me on an unusual (for me) country theme and I discovered these guys to my great delight. They’ve been around, with some 11 albums, but the newest one is fascinating. It’s a deep dive into Southern alienation and the white working-class world often associated with our current president. I admire the willingness to lay bare, in kick ass rock songs, the complexities and pain at work among people we too quickly place into overly simple categories. These guys are brave, bold, and thoughtful as hell, while producing songs I didn’t expect to like, but that I keep playing. And they are coming to NH.
What I’m reading:
A textual analog to Drive-By Truckers by Chris Stapleton in many ways is Tony Horowitz’s 1998 Pulitzer Prize winning Confederates in the Attic. Ostensibly about the Civil War and the South’s ongoing attachment to it, it is prescient and speaks eloquently to the times in which we live (where every southern state but Virginia voted for President Trump). Often hilarious, it too surfaces complexities and nuance that escape a more recent, and widely acclaimed, book like Hillbilly Elegy. As a Civil War fan, it was also astonishing in many instances, especially when it blows apart long-held “truths” about the war, such as the degree to which Sherman burned down the south (he did not). Like D-B Truckers, Horowitz loves the South and the people he encounters, even as he grapples with its myths of victimhood and exceptionalism (and racism, which may be no more than the racism in the north, but of a different kind). Everyone should read this book and I’m embarrassed I’m so late to it.
What I’m watching:
David Letterman has a new Netflix show called “My Next Guest Needs No Introduction” and we watched the first episode, in which Letterman interviewed Barack Obama. It was extraordinary (if you don’t have Netflix, get it just to watch this show); not only because we were reminded of Obama’s smarts, grace, and humanity (and humor), but because we saw a side of Letterman we didn’t know existed. His personal reflections on Selma were raw and powerful, almost painful. He will do five more episodes with “extraordinary individuals” and if they are anything like the first, this might be the very best work of his career and one of the best things on television.
December 22, 2017
What I’m reading:
Just finished Sunjeev Sahota’s Year of the Runaways, a painful inside look at the plight of illegal Indian immigrant workers in Britain. It was shortlisted for 2015 Man Booker Prize and its transporting, often to a dark and painful universe, and it is impossible not to think about the American version of this story and the terrible way we treat the undocumented in our own country, especially now.
What I’m watching:
Season II of The Crown is even better than Season I. Elizabeth’s character is becoming more three-dimensional, the modern world is catching up with tradition-bound Britain, and Cold War politics offer more context and tension than we saw in Season I. Claire Foy, in her last season, is just terrific – one arched eye brow can send a message.
What I’m listening to:
A lot of Christmas music, but needing a break from the schmaltz, I’ve discovered Over the Rhine and their Christmas album, Snow Angels. God, these guys are good.
November 14, 2017
What I’m watching:
Guiltily, I watch the Patriots play every weekend, often building my schedule and plans around seeing the game. Why the guilt? I don’t know how morally defensible is football anymore, as we now know the severe damage it does to the players. We can’t pretend it’s all okay anymore. Is this our version of late decadent Rome, watching mostly young Black men take a terrible toll on each other for our mere entertainment?
What I’m reading:
Recently finished J.G. Ballard’s 2000 novel Super-Cannes, a powerful depiction of a corporate-tech ex-pat community taken over by a kind of psychopathology, in which all social norms and responsibilities are surrendered to residents of the new world community. Kept thinking about Silicon Valley when reading it. Pretty dark, dystopian view of the modern world and centered around a mass killing, troublingly prescient.
What I’m listening to:
Was never really a Lorde fan, only knowing her catchy (and smarter than you might first guess) pop hit “Royals” from her debut album. But her new album, Melodrama, is terrific and it doesn’t feel quite right to call this “pop.” There is something way more substantial going on with Lorde and I can see why many critics put this album at the top of their Best in 2017 list. Count me in as a huge fan.
November 3, 2017
What I’m reading: Just finished Celeste Ng’s Little Fires Everywhere, her breathtakingly good second novel. How is someone so young so wise? Her writing is near perfection and I read the book in two days, setting my alarm for 4:30AM so I could finish it before work.
What I’m watching: We just binge watched season two of Stranger Things and it was worth it just to watch Millie Bobbie Brown, the transcendent young actor who plays Eleven. The series is a delightful mash up of every great eighties horror genre you can imagine and while pretty dark, an absolute joy to watch.
What I’m listening to: I’m not a lover of country music (to say the least), but I love Chris Stapleton. His “The Last Thing I Needed, First Thing This Morning” is heartbreakingly good and reminds me of the old school country that played in my house as a kid. He has a new album and I can’t wait, but his From A Room: Volume 1 is on repeat for now.
September 26, 2017
What I’m reading:
Just finished George Saunder’s Lincoln in the Bardo. It took me a while to accept its cadence and sheer weirdness, but loved it in the end. A painful meditation on loss and grief, and a genuinely beautiful exploration of the intersection of life and death, the difficulty of letting go of what was, good and bad, and what never came to be.
What I’m watching:
HBO’s The Deuce. Times Square and the beginning of the porn industry in the 1970s, the setting made me wonder if this was really something I’d want to see. But David Simon is the writer and I’d read a menu if he wrote it. It does not disappoint so far and there is nothing prurient about it.
What I’m listening to:
The National’s new album Sleep Well Beast. I love this band. The opening piano notes of the first song, “Nobody Else Will Be There,” seize me & I’m reminded that no one else in music today matches their arrangement & musicianship. I’m adding “Born to Beg,” “Slow Show,” “I Need My Girl,” and “Runaway” to my list of favorite love songs.
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thesnhuup · 4 years
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Pop Picks – January 2, 2020
What I’m listening to: 
I was never really an Amy Winehouse fan and I don’t listen to much jazz or blue-eyed soul. Recently, eight years after she died at only 27, I heard her single Tears Dry On Their Own and I was hooked (the song was on someone’s “ten things I’d want on a deserted island” list). Since then, I’ve been playing her almost every day. I started the documentary about her, Amy, and stopped. I didn’t much like her. Or, more accurately, I didn’t much like the signals of her own eventual destruction that were evident early on. I think it was D. H. Lawrence that once said “Trust the art, not the artist.” Sometimes it is better not to know too much and just relish the sheer artistry of the work. Winehouse’s Back to Black, which was named one of the best albums of 2007, is as fresh and painful and amazing 13 years later.
What I’m reading: 
Alan Bennett’s lovely novella An Uncommon Reader is a what-if tale, wondering what it would mean if Queen Elizabeth II suddenly became a reader. Because of a lucked upon book mobile on palace grounds, she becomes just that, much to the consternation of her staff and with all kinds of delicious consequences, including curiosity, imagination, self-awareness, and growing disregard for pomp. With an ill-framed suggestion, reading becomes writing and provides a surprise ending. For all of us who love books, this is a finely wrought and delightful love poem to the power of books for readers and writers alike. Imagine if all our leaders were readers (sigh).
What I’m watching:
I’m a huge fan of many things – The National, Boston sports teams, BMW motorcycles, Pho – but there is a stage of life, typically adolescence, when fandom changes the universe, provides a lens to finally understand the world and, more importantly, yourself, in profound ways. My wife Pat would say Joni Mitchell did that for her. Gurinder Chadha’s wonderful film Blinded By The Light captures the power of discovery when Javed, the son of struggling Pakistani immigrants in a dead end place during a dead end time (the Thatcher period, from which Britain has never recovered: see Brexit), hears Springsteen and is forever changed. The movie, sometimes musical, sometimes comedy, and often bubbling with energy, has more heft than it might seem at first. There is pain in a father struggling to retain his dignity while he fails to provide, the father and son tension in so many immigrant families (I lived some of that), and what it means to be an outsider in the only culture you actually have ever known. 
Archive 
Posted on November 25, 2019
My pop picks are usually a combination of three things: what I am listening to, reading, and watching. But last week I happily combined all three. That is, I went to NYC last week and saw two shows. The first was Cyrano, starring Game of Thrones superstar Peter Dinklage in the title role, with Jasmine Cephas Jones as Roxanne. She was Peggy in the original Hamilton cast and has an amazing voice. The music was written by Aaron and Bryce Dessner, two members of my favorite band, The National, with lyrics by lead singer Matt Berninger and his wife Carin Besser. Erica Schmidt, Dinklage’s wife, directs. Edmond Rostand’s 1897 play is light, dated, and melodramatic, but this production was delightful. Dinklage owns the stage, a master, and his deep bass voice, not all that great for singing, but commanding in the delivery of every line, was somehow a plaintive and resonant counterpoint to Cephas Jones’ soaring voice. In the original Cyrano, the title character’s large nose marks him as outsider and ”other,” but Dinklage was born with achondroplasia, the cause of his dwarfism, and there is a kind of resonance in his performance that feels like pain not acted, but known. Deeply. It takes this rather lightweight play and gives it depth. Even if it didn’t, not everything has to be deep and profound – there is joy in seeing something executed so darn well. Cyrano was delightfully satisfying.
The other show was the much lauded Aaron Sorkin rendition of To Kill a Mockingbird, starring another actor at the very top of his game, Ed Harris. This is a Mockingbird for our times, one in which iconic Atticus Finch’s idealistic “you have to live in someone else’s skin” feels naive in the face of hateful racism and anti-Semitism. The Black characters in the play get more voice, if not agency, in the stage play than they do in the book, especially housekeeper Calpurnia, who voices incredulity at Finch’s faith in his neighbors and reminds us that he does not pay the price of his patience. She does. And Tom Robinson, the Black man falsely accused of rape – “convicted at the moment he was accused,” Whatever West Wing was for Sorkin – and I dearly loved that show – this is a play for a broken United States, where racism abounds and does so with sanction by those in power. As our daughter said, “I think Trump broke Aaron Sorkin.” It was as powerful a thing I’ve seen on stage in years.  
With both plays, I was reminded of the magic that is live theater. 
October 31, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
It drove his critics crazy that Obama was the coolest president we ever had and his summer 2019 playlist on Spotify simply confirms that reality. It has been on repeat for me. From Drake to Lizzo (God I love her) to Steely Dan to Raphael Saadiq to Sinatra (who I skip every time – I’m not buying the nostalgia), his carefully curated list reflects not only his infinite coolness, but the breadth of his interests and generosity of taste. I love the music, but I love even more the image of Michelle and him rocking out somewhere far from Washington’s madness, as much as I miss them both.
What I’m reading: 
I struggled with Christy Lefteri’s The Beekeeper of Aleppo for the first 50 pages, worried that she’d drag out every tired trope of Mid-Eastern society, but I fell for her main characters and their journey as refugees from Syria to England. Parts of this book were hard to read and very dark, because that is the plight of so many refugees and she doesn’t shy away from those realities and the enormous toll they take on displaced people. It’s a hard read, but there is light too – in resilience, in love, in friendships, the small tender gestures of people tossed together in a heartless world. Lefteri volunteered in Greek refugee programs, spent a lot of interviewing people, and the book feels true, and importantly, heartfelt.
What I’m watching:
Soap opera meets Shakespeare, deliciously malevolent and operatic, Succession has been our favorite series this season. Loosely based on the Murdochs and their media empire (don’t believe the denials), this was our must watch television on Sunday nights, filling the void left by Game of Thrones. The acting is over-the-top good, the frequent comedy dark, the writing brilliant, and the music superb. We found ourselves quoting lines after every episode. Like the hilarious; “You don’t hear much about syphilis these days. Very much the Myspace of STDs.” Watch it so we can talk about that season 2 finale.
August 30, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
I usually go to music here, but the New York Times new 1619 podcast is just terrific, as is the whole project, which observes the sale of the first enslaved human beings on our shores 400 years ago. The first episode, “The Fight for a True Democracy” is a remarkable overview (in a mere 44 minutes) of the centrality of racism and slavery in the American story over those 400 years. It should be mandatory listening in every high school in the country. I’m eager for the next episodes. Side note: I am addicted to The Daily podcast, which gives more color and detail to the NY Times stories I read in print (yes, print), and reminds me of how smart and thoughtful are those journalists who give us real news. We need them now more than ever.
What I’m reading: 
Colson Whitehead has done it again. The Nickel Boys, his new novel, is a worthy successor to his masterpiece The Underground Railroad, and because it is closer to our time, based on the real-life horrors of a Florida reform school, and written a time of resurgent White Supremacy, it hits even harder and with more urgency than its predecessor. Maybe because we can read Underground Railroad with a sense of “that was history,” but one can’t read Nickel Boys without the lurking feeling that such horrors persist today and the monsters that perpetrate such horrors walk among us. They often hold press conferences.
What I’m watching:
Queer Eye, the Netflix remake of the original Queer Eye for the Straight Guy some ten years later, is wondrously entertaining, but it also feels adroitly aligned with our dysfunctional times. Episode three has a conversation with Karamo Brown, one of the fab five, and a Georgia small town cop (and Trump supporter) that feels unscripted and unexpected and reminds us of how little actual conversation seems to be taking place in our divided country. Oh, for more car rides such as the one they take in that moment, when a chasm is bridged, if only for a few minutes. Set in the South, it is often a refreshing and affirming response to what it means to be male at a time of toxic masculinity and the overdue catharsis and pain of the #MeToo movement. Did I mention? It’s really fun.
July 1, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
The National remains my favorite band and probably 50% of my listening time is a National album or playlist. Their new album I Am Easy To Find feels like a turning point record for the band, going from the moody, outsider introspection and doubt of lead singer Matt Berninger to something that feels more adult, sophisticated, and wiser. I might have titled it Women Help The Band Grow Up. Matt is no longer the center of The National’s universe and he frequently cedes the mic to the many women who accompany and often lead on the long, their longest, album. They include Gail Ann Dorsey (who sang with Bowie for a long time), who is amazing, and a number of the songs were written by Carin Besser, Berninger’s wife. I especially love the Brooklyn Youth Chorus, the arrangements, and the sheer complexity and coherence of the work. It still amazes me when I meet someone who does not know The National. My heart breaks for them just a little.
What I’m reading: 
Pat Barker’s The Silence of the Girls is a retelling of Homer’s Iliad through the lens of a captive Trojan queen, Briseis. As a reviewer in The Atlantic writes, it answers the question “What does war mean to women?” We know the answer and it has always been true, whether it is the casual and assumed rape of captive women in this ancient war story or the use of rape in modern day Congo, Syria, or any other conflict zone. Yet literature almost never gives voice to the women – almost always minor characters at best — and their unspeakable suffering. Barker does it here for Briseis, for Hector’s wife Andromache, and for the other women who understand that the death of their men is tragedy, but what they then endure is worse. Think of it ancient literature having its own #MeToo moment. The NY Times’ Geraldine Brooks did not much like the novel. I did. Very much.
What I’m watching: 
The BBC-HBO limited series Years and Years is breathtaking, scary, and absolutely familiar. It’s as if Black Mirrorand Children of Men had a baby and it precisely captures the zeitgeist, the current sense that the world is spinning out of control and things are coming at us too fast. It is a near future (Trump has been re-elected and Brexit has occurred finally)…not dystopia exactly, but damn close. The closing scene of last week’s first episode (there are 6 episodes and it’s on every Monday) shows nuclear war breaking out between China and the U.S. Yikes! The scope of this show is wide and there is a big, baggy feel to it – but I love the ambition even if I’m not looking forward to the nightmares.
May 19, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
I usually go to music here, but I was really moved by this podcast of a Davis Brooks talk at the Commonwealth Club in Silicon Valley: https://www.commonwealthclub.org/events/archive/podcast/david-brooks-quest-moral-life.  While I have long found myself distant from his political stance, he has come through a dark night of the soul and emerged with a wonderful clarity about calling, community, and not happiness (that most superficial of goals), but fulfillment and meaning, found in community and human kinship of many kinds. I immediately sent it to my kids.
What I’m reading: 
Susan Orlean’s wonderful The Library Book, a love song to libraries told through the story of the LA Central Library.  It brought back cherished memories of my many hours in beloved libraries — as a kid in the Waltham Public Library, a high schooler in the Farber Library at Brandeis (Lil Farber years later became a mentor of mine), and the cathedral-like Bapst Library at BC when I was a graduate student. Yes, I was a nerd. This is a love song to books certainly, but a reminder that libraries are so, so much more.  It is a reminder that libraries are less about a place or being a repository of information and, like America at its best, an idea and ideal. By the way, oh to write like her.
What I’m watching: 
What else? Game of Thrones, like any sensible human being. This last season is disappointing in many ways and the drop off in the writing post George R.R. Martin is as clear as was the drop off in the post-Sorkin West Wing. I would be willing to bet that if Martin has been writing the last season, Sansa and Tyrion would have committed suicide in the crypt. That said, we fans are deeply invested and even the flaws are giving us so much to discuss and debate. In that sense, the real gift of this last season is the enjoyment between episodes, like the old pre-streaming days when we all arrived at work after the latest episode of the Sopranos to discuss what we had all seen the night before. I will say this, the last two episodes — full of battle and gore – have been visually stunning. Whether the torches of the Dothraki being extinguished in the distance or Arya riding through rubble and flame on a white horse, rarely has the series ascended to such visual grandeur.
March 28, 2019
What I’m listening to: 
There is a lovely piece played in a scene from A Place Called Home that I tracked down. It’s Erik Satie’s 3 Gymnopédies: Gymnopédie No. 1, played by the wonderful pianist Klára Körmendi. Satie composed this piece in 1888 and it was considered avant-garde and anti-Romantic. It’s minimalism and bit of dissonance sound fresh and contemporary to my ears and while not a huge Classical music fan, I’ve fallen in love with the Körmendi playlist on Spotify. When you need an alternative to hours of Cardi B.
What I’m reading: 
Just finished Esi Edugyan’s 2018 novel Washington Black. Starting on a slave plantation in Barbados, it is a picaresque novel that has elements of Jules Verne, Moby Dick, Frankenstein, and Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad. Yes, it strains credulity and there are moments of “huh?”, but I loved it (disclosure: I was in the minority among my fellow book club members) and the first third is a searing depiction of slavery. It’s audacious, sprawling (from Barbados to the Arctic to London to Africa), and the writing, especially about nature, luminous. 
What I’m watching: 
A soap opera. Yes, I’d like to pretend it’s something else, but we are 31 episodes into the Australian drama A Place Called Home and we are so, so addicted. Like “It’s  AM, but can’t we watch just one more episode?” addicted. Despite all the secrets, cliff hangers, intrigue, and “did that just happen?” moments, the core ingredients of any good soap opera, APCH has superb acting, real heft in terms of subject matter (including homophobia, anti-Semitism, sexual assault, and class), touches of our beloved Downton Abbey, and great cars. Beware. If you start, you won’t stop.
February 11, 2019
What I’m listening to:
Raphael Saadiq has been around for quite a while, as a musician, writer, and producer. He’s new to me and I love his old school R&B sound. Like Leon Bridges, he brings a contemporary freshness to the genre, sounding like a young Stevie Wonder (listen to “You’re The One That I Like”). Rock and Roll may be largely dead, but R&B persists – maybe because the former was derivative of the latter and never as good (and I say that as a Rock and Roll fan). I’m embarrassed to only have discovered Saadiq so late in his career, but it’s a delight to have done so.
What I’m reading:
Just finished Marilynne Robinson’s Home, part of her trilogy that includes the Pulitzer Prize winning first novel, Gilead, and the book after Home, Lila. Robinson is often described as a Christian writer, but not in a conventional sense. In this case, she gives us a modern version of the prodigal son and tells the story of what comes after he is welcomed back home. It’s not pretty. Robinson is a self-described Calvinist, thus character begets fate in Robinson’s world view and redemption is at best a question. There is something of Faulkner in her work (I am much taken with his famous “The past is never past” quote after a week in the deep South), her style is masterful, and like Faulkner, she builds with these three novels a whole universe in the small town of Gilead. Start with Gilead to better enjoy Home.
What I’m watching:
Sex Education was the most fun series we’ve seen in ages and we binged watched it on Netflix. A British homage to John Hughes films like The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Pretty in Pink, it feels like a mash up of American and British high schools. Focusing on the relationship of Maeve, the smart bad girl, and Otis, the virginal and awkward son of a sex therapist (played with brilliance by Gillian Anderson), it is laugh aloud funny and also evolves into more substance and depth (the abortion episode is genius). The sex scenes are somehow raunchy and charming and inoffensive at the same time and while ostensibly about teenagers (it feels like it is explaining contemporary teens to adults in many ways), the adults are compelling in their good and bad ways. It has been renewed for a second season, which is a gift.
January 3, 2019
What I’m listening to:
My listening choices usually refer to music, but this time I’m going with Malcolm Gladwell’s Revisionist History podcast on genius and the song Hallelujah. It tells the story of Leonard Cohen’s much-covered song Hallelujah and uses it as a lens on kinds of genius and creativity. Along the way, he brings in Picasso and Cézanne, Elvis Costello, and more. Gladwell is a good storyteller and if you love pop music, as I do, and Hallelujah, as I do (and you should), you’ll enjoy this podcast. We tend to celebrate the genius who seems inspired in the moment, creating new work like lightning strikes, but this podcast has me appreciating incremental creativity in a new way. It’s compelling and fun at the same time.
What I’m reading:
Just read Clay Christensen’s new book, The Prosperity Paradox: How Innovation Can Lift Nations Out of Poverty. This was an advance copy, so soon available. Clay is an old friend and a huge influence on how we have grown SNHU and our approach to innovation. This book is so compelling, because we know attempts at development have so often been a failure and it is often puzzling to understand why some countries with desperate poverty and huge challenges somehow come to thrive (think S. Korea, Singapore, 19th C. America), while others languish. Clay offers a fresh way of thinking about development through the lens of his research on innovation and it is compelling. I bet this book gets a lot of attention, as most of his work does. I also suspect that many in the development community will hate it, as it calls into question the approach and enormous investments we have made in an attempt to lift countries out of poverty. A provocative read and, as always, Clay is a good storyteller.
What I’m watching:
Just watched Leave No Trace and should have guessed that it was directed by Debra Granik. She did Winter’s Bone, the extraordinary movie that launched Jennifer Lawrence’s career. Similarly, this movie features an amazing young actor, Thomasin McKenzie, and visits lives lived on the margins. In this case, a veteran suffering PTSD, and his 13-year-old daughter. The movie is patient, is visually lush, and justly earned 100% on Rotten Tomatoes (I have a rule to never watch anything under 82%). Everything in this film is under control and beautifully understated (aside from the visuals) – confident acting, confident directing, and so humane. I love the lack of flashbacks, the lack of sensationalism – the movie trusts the viewer, rare in this age of bombast. A lovely film.
December 4, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Spending a week in New Zealand, we had endless laughs listening to the Kiwi band, Flight of the Conchords. Lots of comedic bands are funny, but the music is only okay or worse. These guys are funny – hysterical really – and the music is great. They have an uncanny ability to parody almost any style. In both New Zealand and Australia, we found a wry sense of humor that was just delightful and no better captured than with this duo. You don’t have to be in New Zealand to enjoy them.
What I’m reading:
I don’t often reread. For two reasons: A) I have so many books on my “still to be read” pile that it seems daunting to also rereadbooks I loved before, and B) it’s because I loved them once that I’m a little afraid to read them again. That said, I was recently asked to list my favorite book of all time and I answered Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. But I don’t really know if that’s still true (and it’s an impossible question anyway – favorite book? On what day? In what mood?), so I’m rereading it and it feels like being with an old friend. It has one of my very favorite scenes ever: the card game between Levin and Kitty that leads to the proposal and his joyous walking the streets all night.
What I’m watching:
Blindspotting is billed as a buddy-comedy. Wow does that undersell it and the drama is often gripping. I loved Daveed Diggs in Hamilton, didn’t like his character in Black-ish, and think he is transcendent in this film he co-wrote with Rafael Casal, his co-star.  The film is a love song to Oakland in many ways, but also a gut-wrenching indictment of police brutality, systemic racism and bias, and gentrification. The film has the freshness and raw visceral impact of Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing. A great soundtrack, genre mixing, and energy make it one of my favorite movies of 2018.
October 15, 2018 
What I’m listening to:
We had the opportunity to see our favorite band, The National, live in Dallas two weeks ago. Just after watching Mistaken for Strangers, the documentary sort of about the band. So we’ve spent a lot of time going back into their earlier work, listening to songs we don’t know well, and reaffirming that their musicality, smarts, and sound are both original and astoundingly good. They did not disappoint in concert and it is a good thing their tour ended, as we might just spend all of our time and money following them around. Matt Berninger is a genius and his lead vocals kill me (and because they are in my range, I can actually sing along!). Their arrangements are profoundly good and go right to whatever brain/heart wiring that pulls one in and doesn’t let them go.
What I’m reading:
Who is Richard Powers and why have I only discovered him now, with his 12th book? Overstory is profoundly good, a book that is essential and powerful and makes me look at my everyday world in new ways. In short, a dizzying example of how powerful can be narrative in the hands of a master storyteller. I hesitate to say it’s the best environmental novel I’ve ever read (it is), because that would put this book in a category. It is surely about the natural world, but it is as much about we humans. It’s monumental and elegiac and wondrous at all once. Cancel your day’s schedule and read it now. Then plant a tree. A lot of them.
What I’m watching:
Bo Burnham wrote and directed Eighth Grade and Elsie Fisher is nothing less than amazing as its star (what’s with these new child actors; see Florida Project). It’s funny and painful and touching. It’s also the single best film treatment that I have seen of what it means to grow up in a social media shaped world. It’s a reminder that growing up is hard. Maybe harder now in a world of relentless, layered digital pressure to curate perfect lives that are far removed from the natural messy worlds and selves we actually inhabit. It’s a well-deserved 98% on Rotten Tomatoes and I wonder who dinged it for the missing 2%.
September 7, 2018
What I’m listening to:
With a cover pointing back to the Beastie Boys’ 1986 Licensed to Ill, Eminem’s quietly released Kamikaze is not my usual taste, but I’ve always admired him for his “all out there” willingness to be personal, to call people out, and his sheer genius with language. I thought Daveed Diggs could rap fast, but Eminem is supersonic at moments, and still finds room for melody. Love that he includes Joyner Lucas, whose “I’m Not Racist” gets added to the growing list of simply amazing music videos commenting on race in America. There are endless reasons why I am the least likely Eminem fan, but when no one is around to make fun of me, I’ll put it on again.
What I’m reading:
Lesley Blume’s Everyone Behaves Badly, which is the story behind Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises and his time in 1920s Paris (oh, what a time – see Midnight in Paris if you haven’t already). Of course, Blume disabuses my romantic ideas of that time and place and everyone is sort of (or profoundly so) a jerk, especially…no spoiler here…Hemingway. That said, it is a compelling read and coming off the Henry James inspired prose of Mrs. Osmond, it made me appreciate more how groundbreaking was Hemingway’s modern prose style. Like his contemporary Picasso, he reinvented the art and it can be easy to forget, these decades later, how profound was the change and its impact. And it has bullfights.
What I’m watching:
Chloé Zhao’s The Rider is just exceptional. It’s filmed on the Pine Ridge Reservation, which provides a stunning landscape, and it feels like a classic western reinvented for our times. The main characters are played by the real-life people who inspired this narrative (but feels like a documentary) film. Brady Jandreau, playing himself really, owns the screen. It’s about manhood, honor codes, loss, and resilience – rendered in sensitive, nuanced, and heartfelt ways. It feels like it could be about large swaths of America today. Really powerful.
August 16, 2018
What I’m listening to:
In my Spotify Daily Mix was Percy Sledge’s When A Man Loves A Woman, one of the world’s greatest love songs. Go online and read the story of how the song was discovered and recorded. There are competing accounts, but Sledge said he improvised it after a bad breakup. It has that kind of aching spontaneity. It is another hit from Muscle Shoals, Alabama, one of the GREAT music hotbeds, along with Detroit, Nashville, and Memphis. Our February Board meeting is in Alabama and I may finally have to do the pilgrimage road trip to Muscle Shoals and then Memphis, dropping in for Sunday services at the church where Rev. Al Green still preaches and sings. If the music is all like this, I will be saved.
What I’m reading:
John Banville’s Mrs. Osmond, his homage to literary idol Henry James and an imagined sequel to James’ 1881 masterpiece Portrait of a Lady. Go online and read the first paragraph of Chapter 25. He is…profoundly good. Makes me want to never write again, since anything I attempt will feel like some other, lowly activity in comparison to his mastery of language, image, syntax. This is slow reading, every sentence to be savored.
What I’m watching:
I’ve always respected Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, but we just watched the documentary RGB. It is over-the-top great and she is now one of my heroes. A superwoman in many ways and the documentary is really well done. There are lots of scenes of her speaking to crowds and the way young women, especially law students, look at her is touching.  And you can’t help but fall in love with her now late husband Marty. See this movie and be reminded of how important is the Law.
July 23, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Spotify’s Summer Acoustic playlist has been on repeat quite a lot. What a fun way to listen to artists new to me, including The Paper Kites, Hollow Coves, and Fleet Foxes, as well as old favorites like Leon Bridges and Jose Gonzalez. Pretty chill when dialing back to a summer pace, dining on the screen porch or reading a book.
What I’m reading:
Bryan Stevenson’s Just Mercy. Founder of the Equal Justice Initiative, Stevenson tells of the racial injustice (and the war on the poor our judicial system perpetuates as well) that he discovered as a young graduate from Harvard Law School and his fight to address it. It is in turn heartbreaking, enraging, and inspiring. It is also about mercy and empathy and justice that reads like a novel. Brilliant.
What I’m watching:
Fauda. We watched season one of this Israeli thriller. It was much discussed in Israel because while it focuses on an ex-special agent who comes out of retirement to track down a Palestinian terrorist, it was willing to reveal the complexity, richness, and emotions of Palestinian lives. And the occasional brutality of the Israelis. Pretty controversial stuff in Israel. Lior Raz plays Doron, the main character, and is compelling and tough and often hard to like. He’s a mess. As is the world in which he has to operate. We really liked it, and also felt guilty because while it may have been brave in its treatment of Palestinians within the Israeli context, it falls back into some tired tropes and ultimately falls short on this front.
June 11, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Like everyone else, I’m listening to Pusha T drop the mic on Drake. Okay, not really, but do I get some points for even knowing that? We all walk around with songs that immediately bring us back to a time or a place. Songs are time machines. We are coming up on Father’s Day. My own dad passed away on Father’s Day back in 1994 and I remembering dutifully getting through the wake and funeral and being strong throughout. Then, sitting alone in our kitchen, Don Henley’s The End of the Innocence came on and I lost it. When you lose a parent for the first time (most of us have two after all) we lose our innocence and in that passage, we suddenly feel adult in a new way (no matter how old we are), a longing for our own childhood, and a need to forgive and be forgiven. Listen to the lyrics and you’ll understand. As Wordsworth reminds us in In Memoriam, there are seasons to our grief and, all these years later, this song no longer hits me in the gut, but does transport me back with loving memories of my father. I’ll play it Father’s Day.
What I’m reading:
The Fifth Season, by N. K. Jemisin. I am not a reader of fantasy or sci-fi, though I understand they can be powerful vehicles for addressing the very real challenges of the world in which we actually live. I’m not sure I know of a more vivid and gripping illustration of that fact than N. K. Jemisin’s Hugo Award winning novel The Fifth Season, first in her Broken Earth trilogy. It is astounding. It is the fantasy parallel to The Underground Railroad, my favorite recent read, a depiction of subjugation, power, casual violence, and a broken world in which our hero(s) struggle, suffer mightily, and still, somehow, give us hope. It is a tour de force book. How can someone be this good a writer? The first 30 pages pained me (always with this genre, one must learn a new, constructed world, and all of its operating physics and systems of order), and then I could not put it down. I panicked as I neared the end, not wanting to finish the book, and quickly ordered the Obelisk Gate, the second novel in the trilogy, and I can tell you now that I’ll be spending some goodly portion of my weekend in Jemisin’s other world.
What I’m watching:
The NBA Finals and perhaps the best basketball player of this generation. I’ve come to deeply respect LeBron James as a person, a force for social good, and now as an extraordinary player at the peak of his powers. His superhuman play during the NBA playoffs now ranks with the all-time greats, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, MJ, Kobe, and the demi-god that was Bill Russell. That his Cavs lost in a 4-game sweep is no surprise. It was a mediocre team being carried on the wide shoulders of James (and matched against one of the greatest teams ever, the Warriors, and the Harry Potter of basketball, Steph Curry) and, in some strange way, his greatness is amplified by the contrast with the rest of his team. It was a great run.
May 24, 2018
What I’m listening to:
I’ve always liked Alicia Keys and admired her social activism, but I am hooked on her last album Here. This feels like an album finally commensurate with her anger, activism, hope, and grit. More R&B and Hip Hop than is typical for her, I think this album moves into an echelon inhabited by a Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On or Beyonce’s Formation. Social activism and outrage rarely make great novels, but they often fuel great popular music. Here is a terrific example.
What I’m reading:
Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad may be close to a flawless novel. Winner of the 2017 Pulitzer, it chronicles the lives of two runaway slaves, Cora and Caeser, as they try to escape the hell of plantation life in Georgia.  It is an often searing novel and Cora is one of the great heroes of American literature. I would make this mandatory reading in every high school in America, especially in light of the absurd revisionist narratives of “happy and well cared for” slaves. This is a genuinely great novel, one of the best I’ve read, the magical realism and conflating of time periods lifts it to another realm of social commentary, relevance, and a blazing indictment of America’s Original Sin, for which we remain unabsolved.
What I’m watching:
I thought I knew about The Pentagon Papers, but The Post, a real-life political thriller from Steven Spielberg taught me a lot, features some of our greatest actors, and is so timely given the assault on our democratic institutions and with a presidency out of control. It is a reminder that a free and fearless press is a powerful part of our democracy, always among the first targets of despots everywhere. The story revolves around the legendary Post owner and D.C. doyenne, Katharine Graham. I had the opportunity to see her son, Don Graham, right after he saw the film, and he raved about Meryl Streep’s portrayal of his mother. Liked it a lot more than I expected.
April 27, 2018
What I’m listening to:
I mentioned John Prine in a recent post and then on the heels of that mention, he has released a new album, The Tree of Forgiveness, his first new album in ten years. Prine is beloved by other singer songwriters and often praised by the inscrutable God that is Bob Dylan.  Indeed, Prine was frequently said to be the “next Bob Dylan” in the early part of his career, though he instead carved out his own respectable career and voice, if never with the dizzying success of Dylan. The new album reflects a man in his 70s, a cancer survivor, who reflects on life and its end, but with the good humor and empathy that are hallmarks of Prine’s music. “When I Get To Heaven” is a rollicking, fun vision of what comes next and a pure delight. A charming, warm, and often terrific album.
What I’m reading:
I recently read Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko, on many people’s Top Ten lists for last year and for good reason. It is sprawling, multi-generational, and based in the world of Japanese occupied Korea and then in the Korean immigrant’s world of Oaska, so our key characters become “tweeners,” accepted in neither world. It’s often unspeakably sad, and yet there is resiliency and love. There is also intimacy, despite the time and geographic span of the novel. It’s breathtakingly good and like all good novels, transporting.
What I’m watching:
I adore Guillermo del Toro’s 2006 film, Pan’s Labyrinth, and while I’m not sure his Shape of Water is better, it is a worthy follow up to the earlier masterpiece (and more of a commercial success). Lots of critics dislike the film, but I’m okay with a simple retelling of a Beauty and the Beast love story, as predictable as it might be. The acting is terrific, it is visually stunning, and there are layers of pain as well as social and political commentary (the setting is the US during the Cold War) and, no real spoiler here, the real monsters are humans, the military officer who sees over the captured aquatic creature. It is hauntingly beautiful and its depiction of hatred to those who are different or “other” is painfully resonant with the time in which we live. Put this on your “must see” list.
March 18, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Sitting on a plane for hours (and many more to go; geez, Australia is far away) is a great opportunity to listen to new music and to revisit old favorites. This time, it is Lucy Dacus and her album Historians, the new sophomore release from a 22-year old indie artist that writes with relatable, real-life lyrics. Just on a second listen and while she insists this isn’t a break up record (as we know, 50% of all great songs are break up songs), it is full of loss and pain. Worth the listen so far. For the way back machine, it’s John Prine and In Spite of Ourselves (that title track is one of the great love songs of all time), a collection of duets with some of his “favorite girl singers” as he once described them. I have a crush on Iris Dement (for a really righteously angry song try her Wasteland of the Free), but there is also EmmyLou Harris, the incomparable Dolores Keane, and Lucinda Williams. Very different albums, both wonderful.
What I’m reading:
Jane Mayer’s New Yorker piece on Christopher Steele presents little that is new, but she pulls it together in a terrific and coherent whole that is illuminating and troubling at the same time. Not only for what is happening, but for the complicity of the far right in trying to discredit that which should be setting off alarm bells everywhere. Bob Mueller may be the most important defender of the democracy at this time. A must read.
What I’m watching:
Homeland is killing it this season and is prescient, hauntingly so. Russian election interference, a Bannon-style hate radio demagogue, alienated and gun toting militia types, and a president out of control. It’s fabulous, even if it feels awfully close to the evening news. 
March 8, 2018
What I’m listening to:
We have a family challenge to compile our Top 100 songs. It is painful. Only 100? No more than three songs by one artist? Wait, why is M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” on my list? Should it just be The Clash from whom she samples? Can I admit to guilty pleasure songs? Hey, it’s my list and I can put anything I want on it. So I’m listening to the list while I work and the song playing right now is Tom Petty’s “The Wild One, Forever,” a B-side single that was never a hit and that remains my favorite Petty song. Also, “Evangeline” by Los Lobos. It evokes a night many years ago, with friends at Pearl Street in Northampton, MA, when everyone danced well past 1AM in a hot, sweaty, packed club and the band was a revelation. Maybe the best music night of our lives and a reminder that one’s 100 Favorite Songs list is as much about what you were doing and where you were in your life when those songs were playing as it is about the music. It’s not a list. It’s a soundtrack for this journey.
What I’m reading:
Patricia Lockwood’s Priestdaddy was in the NY Times top ten books of 2017 list and it is easy to see why. Lockwood brings remarkable and often surprising imagery, metaphor, and language to her prose memoir and it actually threw me off at first. It then all became clear when someone told me she is a poet. The book is laugh aloud funny, which masks (or makes safer anyway) some pretty dark territory. Anyone who grew up Catholic, whether lapsed or not, will resonate with her story. She can’t resist a bawdy anecdote and her family provides some of the most memorable characters possible, especially her father, her sister, and her mother, who I came to adore. Best thing I’ve read in ages.
What I’m watching:
The Florida Project, a profoundly good movie on so many levels. Start with the central character, six-year old (at the time of the filming) Brooklynn Prince, who owns – I mean really owns – the screen. This is pure acting genius and at that age? Astounding. Almost as astounding is Bria Vinaite, who plays her mother. She was discovered on Instagram and had never acted before this role, which she did with just three weeks of acting lessons. She is utterly convincing and the tension between the child’s absolute wonder and joy in the world with her mother’s struggle to provide, to be a mother, is heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once. Willem Dafoe rightly received an Oscar nomination for his supporting role. This is a terrific movie.
February 12, 2018
What I’m listening to:
So, I have a lot of friends of age (I know you’re thinking 40s, but I just turned 60) who are frozen in whatever era of music they enjoyed in college or maybe even in their thirties. There are lots of times when I reach back into the catalog, since music is one of those really powerful and transporting senses that can take you through time (smell is the other one, though often underappreciated for that power). Hell, I just bought a turntable and now spending time in vintage vinyl shops. But I’m trying to take a lesson from Pat, who revels in new music and can as easily talk about North African rap music and the latest National album as Meet the Beatles, her first ever album. So, I’ve been listening to Kendrick Lamar’s Grammy winning Damn. While it may not be the first thing I’ll reach for on a winter night in Maine, by the fire, I was taken with it. It’s layered, political, and weirdly sensitive and misogynist at the same time, and it feels fresh and authentic and smart at the same time, with music that often pulled me from what I was doing. In short, everything music should do. I’m not a bit cooler for listening to Damn, but when I followed it with Steely Dan, I felt like I was listening to Lawrence Welk. A good sign, I think.
What I’m reading:
I am reading Walter Isaacson’s new biography of Leonardo da Vinci. I’m not usually a reader of biographies, but I’ve always been taken with Leonardo. Isaacson does not disappoint (does he ever?), and his subject is at once more human and accessible and more awe-inspiring in Isaacson’s capable hands. Gay, left-handed, vegetarian, incapable of finishing things, a wonderful conversationalist, kind, and perhaps the most relentlessly curious human being who has ever lived. Like his biographies of Steve Jobs and Albert Einstein, Isaacson’s project here is to show that genius lives at the intersection of science and art, of rationality and creativity. Highly recommend it.
What I’m watching:
We watched the This Is Us post-Super Bowl episode, the one where Jack finally buys the farm. I really want to hate this show. It is melodramatic and manipulative, with characters that mostly never change or grow, and it hooks me every damn time we watch it. The episode last Sunday was a tear jerker, a double whammy intended to render into a blubbering, tissue-crumbling pathetic mess anyone who has lost a parent or who is a parent. Sterling K. Brown, Ron Cephas Jones, the surprising Mandy Moore, and Milo Ventimiglia are hard not to love and last season’s episode that had only Brown and Cephas going to Memphis was the show at its best (they are by far the two best actors). Last week was the show at its best worst. In other words, I want to hate it, but I love it. If you haven’t seen it, don’t binge watch it. You’ll need therapy and insulin.
January 15, 2018
What I’m listening to:
Drive-By Truckers. Chris Stapleton has me on an unusual (for me) country theme and I discovered these guys to my great delight. They’ve been around, with some 11 albums, but the newest one is fascinating. It’s a deep dive into Southern alienation and the white working-class world often associated with our current president. I admire the willingness to lay bare, in kick ass rock songs, the complexities and pain at work among people we too quickly place into overly simple categories. These guys are brave, bold, and thoughtful as hell, while producing songs I didn’t expect to like, but that I keep playing. And they are coming to NH.
What I’m reading:
A textual analog to Drive-By Truckers by Chris Stapleton in many ways is Tony Horowitz’s 1998 Pulitzer Prize winning Confederates in the Attic. Ostensibly about the Civil War and the South’s ongoing attachment to it, it is prescient and speaks eloquently to the times in which we live (where every southern state but Virginia voted for President Trump). Often hilarious, it too surfaces complexities and nuance that escape a more recent, and widely acclaimed, book like Hillbilly Elegy. As a Civil War fan, it was also astonishing in many instances, especially when it blows apart long-held “truths” about the war, such as the degree to which Sherman burned down the south (he did not). Like D-B Truckers, Horowitz loves the South and the people he encounters, even as he grapples with its myths of victimhood and exceptionalism (and racism, which may be no more than the racism in the north, but of a different kind). Everyone should read this book and I’m embarrassed I’m so late to it.
What I’m watching:
David Letterman has a new Netflix show called “My Next Guest Needs No Introduction” and we watched the first episode, in which Letterman interviewed Barack Obama. It was extraordinary (if you don’t have Netflix, get it just to watch this show); not only because we were reminded of Obama’s smarts, grace, and humanity (and humor), but because we saw a side of Letterman we didn’t know existed. His personal reflections on Selma were raw and powerful, almost painful. He will do five more episodes with “extraordinary individuals” and if they are anything like the first, this might be the very best work of his career and one of the best things on television.
December 22, 2017
What I’m reading:
Just finished Sunjeev Sahota’s Year of the Runaways, a painful inside look at the plight of illegal Indian immigrant workers in Britain. It was shortlisted for 2015 Man Booker Prize and its transporting, often to a dark and painful universe, and it is impossible not to think about the American version of this story and the terrible way we treat the undocumented in our own country, especially now.
What I’m watching:
Season II of The Crown is even better than Season I. Elizabeth’s character is becoming more three-dimensional, the modern world is catching up with tradition-bound Britain, and Cold War politics offer more context and tension than we saw in Season I. Claire Foy, in her last season, is just terrific – one arched eye brow can send a message.
What I’m listening to:
A lot of Christmas music, but needing a break from the schmaltz, I’ve discovered Over the Rhine and their Christmas album, Snow Angels. God, these guys are good.
November 14, 2017
What I’m watching:
Guiltily, I watch the Patriots play every weekend, often building my schedule and plans around seeing the game. Why the guilt? I don’t know how morally defensible is football anymore, as we now know the severe damage it does to the players. We can’t pretend it’s all okay anymore. Is this our version of late decadent Rome, watching mostly young Black men take a terrible toll on each other for our mere entertainment?
What I’m reading:
Recently finished J.G. Ballard’s 2000 novel Super-Cannes, a powerful depiction of a corporate-tech ex-pat community taken over by a kind of psychopathology, in which all social norms and responsibilities are surrendered to residents of the new world community. Kept thinking about Silicon Valley when reading it. Pretty dark, dystopian view of the modern world and centered around a mass killing, troublingly prescient.
What I’m listening to:
Was never really a Lorde fan, only knowing her catchy (and smarter than you might first guess) pop hit “Royals” from her debut album. But her new album, Melodrama, is terrific and it doesn’t feel quite right to call this “pop.” There is something way more substantial going on with Lorde and I can see why many critics put this album at the top of their Best in 2017 list. Count me in as a huge fan.
November 3, 2017
What I’m reading: Just finished Celeste Ng’s Little Fires Everywhere, her breathtakingly good second novel. How is someone so young so wise? Her writing is near perfection and I read the book in two days, setting my alarm for 4:30AM so I could finish it before work.
What I’m watching: We just binge watched season two of Stranger Things and it was worth it just to watch Millie Bobbie Brown, the transcendent young actor who plays Eleven. The series is a delightful mash up of every great eighties horror genre you can imagine and while pretty dark, an absolute joy to watch.
What I’m listening to: I’m not a lover of country music (to say the least), but I love Chris Stapleton. His “The Last Thing I Needed, First Thing This Morning” is heartbreakingly good and reminds me of the old school country that played in my house as a kid. He has a new album and I can’t wait, but his From A Room: Volume 1 is on repeat for now.
September 26, 2017
What I’m reading:
Just finished George Saunder’s Lincoln in the Bardo. It took me a while to accept its cadence and sheer weirdness, but loved it in the end. A painful meditation on loss and grief, and a genuinely beautiful exploration of the intersection of life and death, the difficulty of letting go of what was, good and bad, and what never came to be.
What I’m watching:
HBO’s The Deuce. Times Square and the beginning of the porn industry in the 1970s, the setting made me wonder if this was really something I’d want to see. But David Simon is the writer and I’d read a menu if he wrote it. It does not disappoint so far and there is nothing prurient about it.
What I’m listening to:
The National’s new album Sleep Well Beast. I love this band. The opening piano notes of the first song, “Nobody Else Will Be There,” seize me & I’m reminded that no one else in music today matches their arrangement & musicianship. I’m adding “Born to Beg,” “Slow Show,” “I Need My Girl,” and “Runaway” to my list of favorite love songs.
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