What I’m Writing: Back in graduate school in the spring of my life, my least favorite part of every paper to write was the introductory literature review section, where previous critics’ ideas were summarized. I’d somehow gotten the impression that if your research revealed that somebody else had said something like what you were saying, your project became a non-starter . . . so rather than seeking to find helpful content in others’ articles I was hoping bizarrely that they wouldn’t be relevant. In addition, slogging through a mountain of previous commentary often felt like an exercise in insider-dom and academic ego-stroking. Woe to the student who overlooked the article a professor’s friend had published or did not offer proper reverence to the theory du jour (even if one or the other seemed irrelevant or silly). “Conversational,” I freely admit now, did not remotely describe my attitude back then toward others’ contributions.
Fast-forward to this happy “autumn.” For the past fifteen years I’ve been writing in modes my grad school professors might well have dismissed as “popular” (HORRORS!), producing mixed-genre creative nonfiction books and articles that blend reflection, personal narrative and others’ stories, and supporting material from many fields. “Research” has come in that context to seem not just relevant, but essential, for this work is all about helping readers see familiar things in new ways—and to do that a writer must necessarily expand her own perspectives.
What fun I’m having, and how richly others’ work is broadening mine. While working during the past week on the chapter in Everyday Annunciations about unwelcome disruptive life-changes, I’ve been reading about the neurobiology of “sensemaking,” about the culture of Dominican monastic life in the Renaissance (to explore why Fra Angelico might have painted so many shocked Marys), about psychiatric and social work perspectives on trauma and loss. Currently I’m studying Pope Gregory the Great’s work on Job alongside Richard Rohr’s Job and the Mystery of Suffering.
So many voices! Such a great conversation! What a happy magpie nest I’m building.
What I’m Growing: Spring’s arrival is often erratic in the Intermountain West, but this year it’s been, to say the least, remarkable in its suddenness. This winter has been brutal with constant snow: just last week we had a record-setting blizzard during which our small city, Pocatello, received 20” of snow in the city center, up to 30” in the canyons to the east.
This morning, though—just six days after that onslaught with the help of a warmish weekend—I looked on a whim at my garden, and found these undaunted chives emerging. There’s still a big frozen drift near the back door, but what a balm to the spirit!
A Beautiful Thing in My Life Right Now: Yesterday’s Easter table, welcoming dear ones with the promise of full spring to come.
