Jen Doll Responds to the Read YA Controversy with Thoughts About Nuance—

and this is one of the many things I love about Jen.

Jen's whole piece, on Hairpin, is here.

Her final words are a sweet, right challenge:

So read, read Y.A., read adult literature, read blog posts, read magazines, read your box of Cheerios in the morning. Read all you can and want to read, acknowledging the easy and unchallenging and the difficult and complicated, and form your own opinions, trying to add a little room for nuance and understanding and openness in all that you do. That’s the best you can do as a reader, a writer, and a human.

And how honored am I to have Going Over included among works by Markus Zusak, Nina LaCour, Andrew Smith, Cammie McGovern, Laurie Halse Anderson, Sherman Alexie, Aaron Hartzler, E. Lockhart, and Matthew Quick on Jen's "10 Contemporary Y.A. Books That Made Me Think (and That I Loved)."

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On finding myself in the pages of SAVE THE DATE by Jen Doll

Last week my dear friend Jen Doll launched her first book, Save the Date: The Occasional Mortifications of a Serial Wedding Guest, to what we might call mega acclaim.

To be precise: CNN, Time Magazine, GQ, Cosmopolitan, Flavorwire, New York Times Magazine, Marie Claire, Vanity Fair, O Magazine, Harper's Bazaar, and Good Housekeeping have all rallied behind this book—naming it one of the most anticipated books of the year, posting interviews, running excerpts. And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Fame like this couldn't happen to a nicer or more talented person. Because Jen, who is a trusted writer for all the cool publications like Hairpin and Atlantic Wire and New York Times Book Review and is additionally my go-to Twitter station, is also generous, thoughtful, and capable of walking an entire stretch of my city in elevated shoes without a peep of a complaint, even as I am assigning the wrong names to tall buildings.

Sunday, while I was out walking in my suburban town (where the buildings don't really seem to have names and therefore cannot be permanently misaligned), a note came from Jen (whose book I'd read in galley form and wrote about here) asking if I had received my hard copy of Save the Date. I had. I'd put it on my to-be-taught memoir/essay shelf, I said, but had not thought to look inside. I should look inside, Jen suggested. I should, perhaps, read the acknowledgments.

I went home. I found the book. And there, above, is what I found.

I was slayed.

In only the best possible way.

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Save the Date: The Occasional Mortifications of a Serial Wedding Guest/Jen Doll: Reflections

I'm pretty sure you all know how I feel about Jen Doll.

(If, by chance, you've missed out on my Jen Doll love, this post is for you.)

You can imagine then, how happily I have anticipated an early copy of this remarkable young woman's first book, a memoir called Save the Date: The Occasional Mortifications of a Serial Wedding Guest (Riverhead, May 1). I know how witty wise Jen is, for I read her blogs, reviews, and stories. I know how crackerjack smart; plug into her Twitter channel and find out for yourself. But I also know, because I have met her and corresponded with her, because we have talked at length about memoir by phone, how much she cares about her work, her words, her living. Jen may be hysterical, in many hours of many days. She may be totally plugged into The Now. But she is also intelligent and searching, thoughtful and grammatical, richly in tune with the cosmic wonder of a chaotic universe.

All the radiance of Jen is right here, in her book.

Save the Date, a book described as "a hilarious and insightful examination of the search for love and the meaning of marriage in a time of anxiety, independence, and indecision" is not thwarted by bitterness, not slight in its purpose, not mired in revenge—all the things such a book might have been in the hands of another writer.

It is, instead, a real memoir—the sort of story that pulls the reader up short with memories of her own decisions and indecisions, her own false tunes. We all grow up wondering if we will meet the one. We all pretend, sometimes, to know what we are doing. We are all happy for our friends, though sometimes we feel excluded by their joy, and perhaps we embarrass ourselves and at our best we apologize and because we must, we start again. We need advice. We give advice. We let the wounds heal, we lick the wounds. Maybe we haven't confessed all the sloppy muck of it to others, and maybe we've been less than honest with ourselves. In Save the Date Jen Doll tells the truth. She does that thing that great memoirists do—makes sure we're not alone.

I loved learning, from Save the Date—about the family Jen loves, the humor that shaped her, the nicknames she gave her younger brother. I loved seeing glimpses of her at work, glimpses of her in the mirror in fabulous shoes, glimpses of her working through the many gears of many friendships, glimpses of her at so many weddings. I worried for her sometimes. I rooted for her, always. I was brought in close, by quiet moments such as these:

The decision not to be together forever means, to each other, you become nothing more than a memory, a series of photographs, some stories, and, of course, whatever you've learned and will take with you to the next relationship. Those things are not nothing. Yet there was love there once, and then there's not, I wonder where it goes.

I have a very good feeling about Save the Date. And I have an even deeper affection, now, for Jen.

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elements of a perfect day:

* All 72 Friday emails answered by 7:23 AM Saturday morning

* A definite "we're going" to the Annual Philadelphia Writers Party, concocted by Stephen Fried and Diane Ayres and populated by Philly writers, editors, photographers, designers "and others who eke out a living in the world of words and images or the teaching thereof." Do you see yourself in that description? Join us on Monday at Bliss, starting at 5:30 PM.

* Body Combat with Teresa at Club La Maison at 8:00 AM (we killed it)

* Clean house by 10:18 AM

* Hair by Cole Wellness, done by noon

* Andra Bell is in the house by 12:30, and off we (my husband with us) go, to see "Philomena," which is to say Judi Dench in all her glory, at Bryn Mawr Film Institute. 

* A quick trip to the Wayne Art Center, with Andra, to share with her that glorious space and its two new exhibits. One of the exhibits features the award-winning glass work of Madeline Rile, a sensational artist and the second daughter of my good friend, Karen Rile. Madeline, when we were there, three patrons were exulting in your talents. I boasted about knowing you. It's gorgeous work! Congratulations!

* My two glaze pieces are ready at the Center, and I'm happy with them. (That doesn't often happen.) And I've got a bisque piece to paint as well.

* Home to an email from The Great Jen Doll, whose first book, a memoir called Save the Date, has a smashing cover and is set for a May release. We. Can't. Wait. To. Read. I called it first.

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The Dish and the Doll make my day

Someday, somewhere (on an escalator, in an elevator, at a sushi shop, on a subway), I will see The Dish (otherwise known as Andrew Sullivan).

And when I do, I will tell him: Thank you for this.

In the meantime—bubbles.

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the Jen Doll/Hairpin/Handling conversation and (wow) First Person Arts

If you're looking for a new entertainment channel, you can't do much better than Jen Doll, whose essays, opinions, and reviews appear in all the most important places (New York Times Book Review, New York Magazine, Village Voice, The Atlantic, Vulture) and whose Twitter Feed is my personal go-to late night/early morning/any time of day First Aid Kit. Jen made my last year when she reviewed Small Damages for the NYTBR. She made my 2013 BEA when we met for the first time. And she made my yesterday train ride when she sent word that a conversation we'd had about memoir (Jen has her own due out next year and it sounds a — Ma — Zing) was now up and running at The Hairpin.

I am not an inherently cool dude-ess, but chilling with Jen makes me feel as if I am. And either she was typing uber fast when we were having our phone conversation a few weeks ago, or she has perfect handwriting/perfect recall, because I've never seen my own words transcribed with such precision.

So here. Meet Jen Doll, if you haven't already, by following this link to our conversation.

You'll find that she's a tad addictive.

And on another topic entirely: Did my fellow WXPNers/First Person Arts performers knock it out of the park at Kelly Writers House last night, or what? We'd gathered to give Philadelphia a taste of what is to come at the First Person Arts Festival, which launches November 6 and features an incredible line-up of storytellers, humorists, performance artists, and writers (Toni Morrison, Sonia Sanchez, Rita Dove, Ana Castillo, and Dani Shapiro among them). Supremely seductive stories got told. I encourage you to tune in on November 4, 8 PM at WXPN 88.5 to hear these hip hopping storytellers for yourself.

(And another round of hugs to Angela and Chang, for being my personal cheering section.)

Thanks to Karina Kacala, who organized the event, and thanks to Becca Jennings and Alli Katz, for holding our hands, and thanks to Andrew Panebianco, Katie Samson, Raphael Xavier, Yaba Blay, fellow artists, and thanks to Michaela Majoun and her inimitable radio ways. And come see us at First Person Arts. I'm on stage with Dani Shapiro on November 10 at 4 o'clock at Christ Church Neighborhood House. And then I return on November 16, 11 o'clock, for a two-hour memoir workshop called The Spices of Life. Registration is required.

See you then?

Say yes.

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Small Damages: a book, and a cover, blessed

And so, in this week of breathtaking kindness, I want to thank some special people for throwing light my way.

Ed Nawotka, for inviting me to give the keynote address at the Publishing Perspectives conference and for subsequently running the talk today on the Publishing Perspectives site.  To all of you have retweeted the talk, thank you.

Jen Doll, for including Small Damages as one of the top 25 book covers here, on the Atlantic Wire, and for making this the year to remember with her New York Times Book Review thoughts about the book last July.

The YALSA folks for naming Small Damages to the BFYA list.

CMRLS Teen Scene for putting Small Damages on the Printz watch.

A.A. Omer, for giving Small Damages this glorious five-star review.

My friends, old and new, for being there.  My agent, Amy Rennert, for her enthusiasm.  And while this has absolutely nothing to do with Small Damages, a huge thanks to the Gotham team for being so wholly supportive of Handling the Truth, a book due out next August.  I will do everything in my power to earn your faith in me.

My father, for buying a copy of Small Damages, and making a go of reading it, even though it's not exactly this history lover's kind of book.

I have been in the book business a very long time.  I will hold onto these gifts, in memory, for the rest of my life.

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The New York Times Review of Small Damages (and a brief accounting of kindnesses)

Twelve books, twelve years, four genres, and seven publishing houses ago, there was a lovely small New York Times review of a book I'd written called Into the Tangle of Friendship. 

Between that day and this one, I have been buoyed by readers and friends, by an agent and editors, by good-hearted bloggers and students, and of course by family in this strange but essential writing dream.  I have written odd books (a river speaks in one, corporate America is transformed into a Wonderland in another), "small" books, books that might have been more than they were and books that reached more readers than I thought possible.  I have kept writing because I can't help it, because it is, as I have said before, medicinal, because even when I tried to stop, I didn't know how stopping worked.  What does a life look like without story making and sentence crafting, without reaching and metaphor?  I don't know.  I don't want to find out.

Over the past few weeks, extraordinary kindnesses have been shown toward Small Damages, a book that I had worked on for many, many years.  Kindness within Philomel, that publishing phenom that has gifted me with the talents and deep hearts of my editor Tamra Tuller (do I love her? yes, I do), Michael Green (president and (also) writer of some of the best emails ever), Jessica Shoffel (publicist extraordinary—unbelievably smart and quick and precise and there), Julia Johnson (who told me once that she has a secret third eye), Jill Santopolo (that uber-bright cutie who forged the original link), a fantastically talented design and editorial team, and an amazingly generous sales team.  Kindness from interviewers like Abby Plesser and Dennis Abrams.  Kindness from magazine editors like Darcy Jacobs of Family Circle and Renee Fountain of Bella and the super nice people of the LA Times.  Kindness from friends and from bloggers, each of whom is so dear to me, so valued.  (In case you are wondering, the spectacular quilted cover of Small Damages above was created by blogger and friend, Wendy Robards of Caribousmom.)

That should be enough, truly, but a few days ago, something else happened.  The phone rang, and it was my agent, Amy Rennert.  Fortunately, I was sitting down, for Amy had called to read me Jen Doll's most amazing review of Small Damages—a review that appears in this weekend's New York Times.

We yearn, as writers, to be understood.  We yearn to be read with an open heart. We can't even believe our good fortune when this happens to us in the pages of the Times.  When we are read and assessed by one as intelligent and thoughtful as Jen Doll.

The Times.

I have always loved the Times.  Today I love Her even more than always and forever.

There are no words.

A final note:  I have been typing this blog post with fumbling fingers, and I'm quite sure that I have erred somewhere up there.  But my fumbling became a trembling when Jillian Cantor sent word that Publishers Weekly had named Small Damages among this week's best new books.

I'm floored.

Period.

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