Writing and other acts of faith

Also, figs, ice cream, how you all keep me going

Sep 05, 2020

Acts of faith, figs, and ice cream
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So, how’s the book going?

“Writing is an act of faith, not a trick of grammar.” - E.B. White

When my mother asks, as she always does, “how’s the writing going?” I think of telling her that there are days when I imagine printing out every page of my novel-in-progress, lighting them up with a match, and then soaking the ashes in the bathtub until they become a fine paste that I will spread on bread, cover with honey, and eat until they they are delivered back into the world as compost. Maybe then, I think, they will have been good for something.

Instead, I say “fine.”

When friends who do not write ask, “So, what are you working on?” I realize I can only offer the same answer I offered when they asked last year: the novel and some short pieces that sometimes make it out into the world for acceptance or rejections. Mainly I’m sitting at my desk every day trying to tell a story that slips away from me every time I think I’ve got a bead on it. Because I’m stubborn. Because one of my curses is that I need closure even when the problem resists solution. Because every time I fail to achieve something I’m aiming for, I learn something. These scraps, these lessons, these moments of “oh, that’s how to do that,” keep me going. I’m too shy and embarrassed to tell them about the things that make my day: a good sentence, a flash of insight, taking apart a novel I have loved reading in order to learn how to structure my own. When I let myself dwell on it, I’m as appalled as they are about how long it is taking me to write my second book.

I am not a young woman. But I am, as Neil Gaiman puts it in his various talks and courses, “a young writer” — I figure that, in writer’s years, I’m just leaving my adolescence. Yes, I finished a novel (three times before I got it right) and yes it got published. That took ten years during which a lot of life happened. I never expected it to take that long again. So far, it hasn’t, but it remains a possibility. Moreover, when I am finished, who knows what the world will look like? I expend a fair amount of energy fending off visions of the apocalypse in which a story like mine is irrelevant. I am not only a “young writer” of a certain age, I am a slow writer. I always have been.

There are people in my life, though, who get it. Other writers. My husband. Every week one of the friends who has known me longest reminds me that writing is an “act of faith.” Yes, it is. When I don’t have faith in myself, I have to have faith in the act of writing. If I sit down each day and take action - push my pen across the page or sit here at my keyboard and make sentences - there is a chance of one of those glimmers that keeps me going. If I don’t, then there is no chance at all. So I sit. I make words. We’ll see where it all leads. There are worse ways to pass the days.

There are also some wonderful people in this community who have taken the time over the past few weeks to write me and let me know that they look forward to Saturday mornings and reading the next issue of Spark. When my faith lags, I only have to read them and I am renewed. Read on to find out what they say and, more importantly, what they’re reading. But first…

Figs

“Every fruit has its secret.” - From the poem, Figs, by D.H. Lawrence,

We begin to watch my neighbor’s fruit tree very early in the year when it begins to sprout small green leaves. As spring approaches, the leaves fan out, and when a breeze lifts them, it reveals small green figs hiding there. They remain small and green for what feels like forever until one day, usually at some point in late July or August, they are HUGE and they are purple, each one racing to ripen before the others. We love this part because pretty soon the tree is overrun with figs and they begin to appear on our doorstep or we are invited to pick as we pass by. We do. We pick, we dine like Greek gods and goddesses on the biggest most luscious figs ever known to mortals until September. Then, sated, we think no more of figs until the spring comes once again.

This has been a particularly good summer for the neighborhood figs. We had so many recently that my neighbor, another friend, and I decided to try out a recipe for fig ice cream from David Lebovitz’s wonderful book “The Perfect Scoop” and my bible (as you can probably tell by all the notes sticking out of this copy).

My job was to make the first batch and, for once, I followed the recipe to the letter. Never again. The ice cream was just okay -- overly sweet and not at all like figs. Not a good use of figs or of ice cream. I was ready to hang it up but then two more pounds of these gorgeous flowers -- because that is what figs are, ingrown flowers -- came my way and I’m going to try what my instincts told me to try the first time: goat cheese. This weekend I will be doing one of my favorite things: making a new ice cream by combining and adapting recipes - in this case, recipes for fig ice cream and goat cheese ice cream. Sugar will take a back seat to the figs. I will let you know how it goes.

The best way to eat figs, of course, is right off the tree, sticky juice covering the lips and seeping between your fingers or, as D.H. Lawrence wrote when he was in Italy:

Figs, as any writer or eater of figs will tell you, are sexy. They are the most female of flowers, the most sensuous of nature’s sweets. They are like aphrodisiacs for some writers who produce searing poems and sentences inspired by the fig. For example, the rest of Lawrence’s poem goes to great lengths to compare figs to women who “ripen, bursten” into “affirmation” and everyone knows, he says, that ripe figs and ripe women “won’t keep.” His poem veers into that territory that made my teenage self read and re-read “Lady Chatterly’s Lover” and explore ideas of sensuality as well as sex but, warily, because even my teenage self could see that it was all about him in some way. Tell me what you think.

On the other hand, Libby Brydolf (whose name I clumsily misspelled below), a friend of mine whose writing is rooted in nature, wrote this paragraph in one of her essays-in-progress about the fig tree in her back yard:

Ellen Bass wrote this:

Ice Cream

If you are an ice cream lover and don’t particularly like figs, here’s a link to some recipes for ice creams I have made and loved and that might be fun to try in the waning days of summer although I am never constrained by season when it comes to ice cream. Note: the booze is entirely optional and if you don’t tolerate dairy, there is a link to a fantastic, foolproof chocolate coconut milk ice cream.

I love making and eating ice cream all year round and, as I write these words, I’m thinking we should devote a future issue of Spark to this subject. Thoughts?

Short Reads

This week’s short reads are letters from Sparkers who have, over the weeks, written to share their thoughts, what’s out their windows, and what they are reading. Please - keep these coming. Leave a comment (all you have to do is “subscribe” and you are magically able to leave comments without a hassle. Let me know if you would like me to do this for you).

From Jim Ruland, San Diego after reading A Visitation:

“We've been paying a lot of attention to birds lately too. We put up a hummingbird feeder and a pair of doves come by every so often and the trees across out balcony are filled with birds. And now the crows are back fly over our little condo every night at dusk. I don't know their rhythms but they go away and then return. Hopefully their return means the hot weather will be over soon!”

From Cyndi, San Diego, after reading Escape Hatch:

“Spark is the best thing in my inbox on Saturday mornings. I always mean to let you know and never do. Now, finally I am.

Judging from watch and read lists it’s comforting to find I am not alone ...

Books recently read: “The Weight of Ink” by Rachel Kadish (loved) and “The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek” by Kim Michele Richardson (liked.)

In progress: “Chronicles of Narnia” by C.S. Lewis;” “Earthly Possessions” by Anne Tyler, and “The Flatshare” by Beth O’Leary

A few favorites so far this year: “Circe” by Madeline Miller (!!!) ; “The Murmur of Bees” by Sofia Segovia (Magical realism what’s not to love?); “Conviction” by Denise Mina ( I can’t resist a good crime drama and this one is just so good!)

Shows (...I’m sure there are many great shows I’m missing...I watch way too much news Yuck... still find comfort in the Food Channel odd considering 6 out of 7 nights I have avocado toast for dinner : )

Game of Thrones -I broke down and subscribed to HBO the first week of ‘Stay Home’. GOT was my security blanket for the first 3 months of lockdown. I binge watched for 7 of 9 season then, with 2 episodes to go I hit pause for 2 months because I couldn’t imagine a life without GOT. I have since hit play and finished out the series...

Schitt’s Creek -this show was a fail for me on first attempt. My granddaughter inspired me to give it a second shot. I can’t for the life of me imagine what I was thinking the first time round...really

Wallander -highly recommend both the BBC series and the original Swedish series (Netflix) You don’t need to be a fan of crime/police drama to fall hard for this series it really is that good

I find so much inspiration in Spark. It is a breath of fresh air. Thank you. XO’s”

From Joyce in North Carolina

And Joyce from North Carolina wrote this after reading Escape Hatch and treated herself with a birthday book from the Spark Community Bookshop.org page which is bursting with books to read and offers a chance to support independent bookstores and literacy with each purchase.

“I look forward to reading your emails every Saturday morning. I do not usually read fantasy or science fiction. But listening to the news these days I wish it was a fantasy or dream that I am going to wake up from soon.

For my birthday I ordered the book “The Last Flight” by Julie Clark from bookshop,org. Enjoyed reading about two women who trade plane tickets at the airport. Many unexpected events happen and there is a surprising end. I just finished reading “Liar's Bench” by Kim Michele Richardson (author of “Book Woman of Troublesome Creek”) which I liked very much. I’ve just started reading “Front Row at the Trump Show” by Jonathan Karl that i borrowed from my walking friend. I have only read the introduction. I think Karl knew along time ago that Trump is all about Trump. Looking forward to Saturday's email. Take care.”

Keep those notes, and books coming! Until next Saturday! Be well. Enjoy a safe Labor Day weekend.

Betsy

P.S. And now…your moment of Zen. I don’t know what it means. (I bet you were expecting more figs)