A Conversation with Amy Alznauer

My dear Amy,

I’m so thrilled you accepted my invitation for an interview. It was such a God-wink when I won a copy of The Boy Who Dreamed of Infinity: a Tale of the Genius Ramanujan, beautifully illustrated by Daniel Miyares. When I looked at your background in mathematics and the story of your father coming upon Ramanujan’s box of papers, I just knew you were the perfect person to write his story. Was it difficult to write so simply about complex matters?

To me that is the joy of writing and talking about mathematics, to take some complex, abstract thing and find a way to make it not only clear but seductive, opening the reader or student to even deeper engagement. And I’ve found that mathematics, like so many other areas of human thought, thrives on metaphor. The hard part is choosing the right metaphor. When I was in high school I was reading Macbeth and the I Ching at the same time and was struck by certain superficial similarities, so I wrote a very silly paper titled The Yin and Yang of Macbeth. My English teacher made endless fun of me. If he’d been kinder he might have noticed that I was a budding, or at least aspiring, metaphor maker, but he did have a point. You can bring almost any two things into correspondence by way of metaphor but that doesn’t make the metaphor meaningful. So, the hard part for me in writing this story, or any story for that matter, was discovering the right metaphor. In this case, I needed a metaphor capable of speaking to both the life and the mathematics.

That's so interesting about having the right metaphor. I really loved how something small can have infinity inside. It's a paradox, like our Trinitarian God Himself. 

Your writing is so lyrical and perhaps it comes naturally to you being a mathematician (I know another mathematician, Marcia Hoehne, who writes literary MG and who noted in a book review of The 14 Fibs of Gregory K. that “Studies have shown that boys fall into one of four categories -- they're good at math, writing, both, or neither. Girls, however, fall into three categories -- they're good at writing, both, or neither. What this means is that if a girl is good at math, she's good at language, too.” I found this to be true in my observations. How about you?

To me mathematics is all about language. It is a language. An equation is a sentence, and I always point that out to students, that they are reading extremely precise, rigorous language that largely follows grammatical rules. Mathematics is also tremendously creative. Mathematicians tend to dream in numbers and symbols. Sometimes geometric objects come to life in dreams. Working mathematicians describe their work as an adventure, as walking in a garden, climbing a mountain, making their way through a jungle. So, it doesn’t surprise me that skill with writing and mathematics would go together. But I don’t have much to say on this fascinating gender split! I need to hear more!

This just makes me want to sing—yes, mathematics *is* a language, as is music or poetry. Since we are discussing mathly observations, do you sing too? Play an instrument?

I come from a musical family so I feel like the dud in that regard. My father has been playing boogie-woogie piano by ear since he was four years old, my sister is an opera singer, and my brother improvises classical music on the piano and on a custom-made clavichord. But I do love to sing and I play a smattering of instruments poorly. I even have a harmonium that I use mostly for chords and droned single notes. It reminds me of the sad, full tones of a bagpipe.

I’ve not heard the harmonium in decades! My mother used to play it sometimes while singing devotional songs. And my sister and I loved to sing along to the radio or to our records (we still do). But I fell in love with piano when we moved to this country and took lessons for a couple of years. I don’t play as much as I’d like to but what a joy it is for me, even with plenty of wrong notes. I doubt you're a dud, Amy. We simply can’t be brilliant at everything. But what a wonderful background—I can only imagine your family get togethers. But I digress. Let's talk about what you're wonderful at--writing.

What’s your process? I love reading about how writers write. I’ve collected quite a few biographies and it’s like having a cup of tea with a good friend. And picture books have the added dimension of the art, which is so lovely.

I work in fits and starts which is my least favorite thing about myself as a writer. I don’t have one of those reliable, write-every-morning-with-coffee schedules, but I am convinced I could!

I can relate—I didn’t start writing until I was pregnant with Dagny so fits and starts is all I knew. Nap times were sacred. But once they started school, a good routine emerged.

Usually it goes like this. Something intrigues me. Usually it is a context or moment, maybe several connected moments, that seem replete with meaning. I can feel the possibility of metaphor within this context. This may seem strange and not quite at the heart of story, but for me a metaphor is often the thing that gives rise to story. A metaphor seeks to bring disparate things together, and that progression, of things moving into connection or communion, is story. It offers both action or quest and resolution. So, I get this initial spark and then do the intense work of research. Scenes, snippets of dialogues, character traits begin to attach themselves to the central idea. I work out a timeline, and all of it begins to sort itself out. By the time I begin to write, I have a strong sense of the arc of the story and the central metaphor. I know the shining bits I want to include, but the rest, the actual execution, is still dark. Then I labor over an opening. Sometimes this is a long process, other times it comes quickly. And then usually, I am off and running. I can write fairly consistently, on that nice, mornings-with-coffee schedule.

This is really beautiful. But how do you juggle so many responsibilities—teaching, writing, family life, and now homeschooling as well, I assume with the covid?

Life is always changing, one thing taking priority for a while out of necessity, everything shifting around, and then shifting back again or somewhere else. Lately I have been trying to embrace this chaos as part of the life my husband and I have chosen. I tell myself that my children are growing up in a house full of books and creation and philosophy and that what it lacks in order is hopefully made up for by spirit and love. 

In One Thing by Gary Keller and Jay Papasan they discuss how excellence happens at the extremes, and how one can learn to counterbalance. So go ahead and "choose what matters the most and give it all the time it demands." It sounds like you are juggling all your balls well.

You have not one but THREE picture book biographies coming out this year!!! Congratulations!!! How'd this happen? I notice that Candlewick is the publisher for both Ramanujan and the Flying Paintings: the Zhou Brothers’ story--and to have them illustrate their own story! Oh, please do tell how this came about? Did you visit their gallery to ask them yourself? I can't wait to read it.

To your first question. My three books went under contract over a five-year period, and by some strange, twist of fate ended up with pub dates all within the same four-month period. There is no explanation other than bad or good luck, depending on how you look at it.

Definitely good luck! And I see a fourth book as well to which you contributed an essay!

The Zhou story is another matter and quite interesting. I wrote the story first and then took it to the brothers, who immediately loved it. They were also thrilled with the idea of Candlewick publishing the book. After contracts were signed, sealed, and delivered (meaning we had ceded our rights to choose an illustrator), the brothers contacted me through their son, Michael, with concerns about who would illustrate their story. Michael and I poured over stacks of picture book biographies looking for a good style or feel for the book. But nothing seemed quite right. A week later, out of the blue, Michael sent me two gorgeous paintings the brothers had done for the book. I still remember sitting on my kitchen stool, staring at these paintings on my phone and realizing that the Zhou brothers themselves wanted to illustrate the book! Nothing could have been more wonderful or terrifying. Would Candlewick ever decide to bring on two world-class, modern artists as illustrators? But on the other hand, would the Zhou brothers agree to go forward with the book if they were not chosen? So, I made a grand pitch to Candlewick and held my breath. Well Candlewick went for it, and not only went for it but were overjoyed. And so here we are.

That’s so wonderful! Perfect, in fact. 

Of course, I loved The Strange Birds of Flannery. You did an amazing job capturing her childhood and worldview. She's not an easy person to read or write about. But you wrote beautifully. And what's this I hear about a movie? Please do tell.

Thank you so much, Vijaya! And yes, there is a film, which I have actually seen. It’s a gorgeous, intimate look at O’Connor’s entire life, full of great music and fascinating commentary from celebrities, friends, scholars, and writers like Alice Walker, who were O’Connor’s contemporaries. Often documentaries about writers focus only on the life and not on the work, but here the directors alternate between biographical segments, commentary, and beautifully animated sequences from her fiction. You come away from the film feeling like you’ve walked by Flannery’s side and seen the world a little like she might have, through her illness, her faith, her obsessions, through the minds of others who loved her, and most importantly through the world she created in her fiction.

But I’d like to add that the release of the film, and my book release, were somewhat dampened or at least altered by a piece recently published in the New Yorker by Paul Elie, sensationally titled, “How Racist Was Flannery O’Connor?” His central claim is that (until now!) no one has taken O’Connor and race seriously. This, however, this is egregiously false. I was actually so appalled by this claim that I wrote a response here, detailing many of the women and Black scholars Elie ignores. Jessica Hooten Wilson and James Foss have both written beautifully about Elie’s bizarre and problematic interpretations of O’Connor’s fiction."

Well said, Amy. I'm so sick of people wanting to rewrite history, painting everyone with a broad brush, labelling and dismissing. What I see in Flannery's letters is a woman who has grown. I'm sure she's a saint in heaven.

How do you choose your subjects, Amy? Or do they choose you, won’t let you go? Do you ever worry that you won’t be able to do them justice? Obviously, I struggle with this myself…

I would say it is more that they choose me. An idea (usually the spark of metaphor, that rich context) arises through my own reading and then if these ideas are going to lead to a book they relentlessly percolate or fester away (depending on my mood) until I can no longer ignore the project. And of course, in the case of biography, I always worry that I won’t be able to do my subjects justice! It’s not that I think a picture book biography has to be comprehensive, but it does have to convey the core spirit of the life or lives, and that is challenge enough. It has to be true to the person who really lived and that is a great task and responsibility. So, I definitely approach my subjects with fear and trembling.

This is such good advice. I have tried to write about our Blessed Mother and St. John the Baptist and after two sentences or even ten, stricken with paralysis. But I must continue like you say, with “fear and trembling.” I think I know what’s missing in the lives of the saints I want to tackle—the central image, the metaphor.

We could discuss craft all day long but I want to move on to business, because publishing is a business. Did you know from the beginning that you needed to have an agent? And how did you go about it?

I’ve always known that pitching editors and agents would be my least favorite part of the business (but isn’t hocking one’s wares everyone’s nemesis?). So I thought paying someone to do this for me would be more than worth the expense. Two key things happened that helped me find an agent. First, I joined SCBWI. This organization opens doors for so many book creators. And second, at my very first conference, the SCBWI-IL Prairie Writers and Illustrators Day, I heard about a new local contest: the Laura Crawford Memorial Mentorship. I entered and amazingly I won. Working with my mentor, writing coach extraordinaire Esther Hershenhorn, I rewrote my story The Boy Who Dreamed of Infinity and found my agent, Rosemary Stimola. I consider all of this to be largely a matter of luck. But again, SCBWI offers so many opportunities for awards and access to agents and editors, that lucky things seem to happen all the time. Every day I hear about another person finding their way to publication through the doors SCBWI has opened, the lucky breaks they make a little more likely to happen.

Yes, I love what SCBWI offers and I love reading the stories behind the story. I’ve been part of the Western WA chapter and now the Carolinas and must give a shoutout to Verla Kay’s Blueboard (children’s literature message board) which merged with SCBWI. I’ve been a moderator off and on for over a decade there.

 Your very first book, though—Love and Salt—is a memoir of your conversion. I loved the epistolary nature of the book because I’ve been a letter-writer my whole life and there’s a bit of a guilty pleasure in reading other people’s letters. Did you ever read Griffin and Sabine by Nick Bantock? Pure fiction, with a mystery at the center of it, but oh so delicious—you can say it’s a picture book for grown-ups!

It has been years since I’ve read Griffin and Sabine, but the story and even more the book itself is beautiful. Like you, I’ve always written letters. I even have boxes full of letters from my high school friends, correspondences that we kept even though we saw each other every day. And letters have always been precious to me and almost sacramental, these physical objects that seem to contain another person's spirit. That is why working in library archives has always been transformative. You hold in your hands the drawings, the letters, the stories that another person once touched and created with their minds and hands and hearts. It’s breathtakingly intimate.

Yes! I wish now that I were as good a keeper of letters as my sister. When I’ve visited her, she’s shared old letters our mother wrote. I believe my mother is a saint in heaven too, so I love being able to touch the things she touched when she was alive. Of course, I have some of her clothes and jewelry and I treasure them, wear them.

Love and Salt is such an intimate look between two friends making their journey towards the Lord. I loved it so much. It’s strange, but I think some of us cannot think straight without writing. I thought about the many letters I’ve written and received when I was going through my own conversion or walking alongside my sister when she made hers, and it’s through words that we gained more clarity.  I’m so grateful for this purely unselfish gift you and Jess made. Each book has a piece of us in it, but these letters! They allow me, a stranger, into your heart. How is it that you were able to do this? Did either one of you have any reservations of making public such private aspects?

Thank you for saying this. Yes, it was a very difficult decision to publish our letters. The project actually began in part because we were trying to get away from the competitive, publication-oriented culture of our MFA program. We wanted our writing to matter not because it was accepted by a publishing house, but because the act of writing itself was meaningful. And yet, writing in a journal, purely for oneself, can be terribly unsatisfying. The desire to create necessarily involves an audience. So, writing letters was a perfect solution. As Vivian Gornick puts it, to write a letter you must sit alone in silence “in the conjured presence of another person.” It’s very much like prayer. You pour your heart out in solitude, but always you’re aware that your correspondent awaits, invisible, on the other end.

I love this so much. It expresses the letter and the prayer perfectly.

So, we never intended for our letters to become a book. We loved them precisely because they were ours and ours alone. They seemed to contain our friendship and even our prayer life. But, at some point, after the tragedy we lived through together, we wanted to see our letters together. We wanted to be able to read them in their entirety. But after we achieved this, photocopying all the hand-written ones (which were most of them) and collating them, we realized that they told a story. And stories have a way of wanting to be read. We started to see our letters as a book. But even then, even after spending a year transcribing and editing down our thousand pages to a book-length manuscript, we couldn’t bear to part with them. We shelved the project for over two years. But then one day, almost on a whim, my co-author Jessica Mesman wrote a letter to Loyola Press, and they very quickly responded with an offer. I still remember her calling me breathless with this news, and us just sitting there in shocked silence on the phone not sure what to do. But again, stories seem to reach out for readers, and eventually we were able to let go.

I will always be grateful that Jess took that step. One of the most interesting aspects in Love and Salt were the letters that were never sent. How in the world did you manage to keep so organized that you actually had those scraps of paper?   

It wasn’t about organization (I am not organized!) but about habit. For both of us, our letters had become a way to keep time from slipping beyond memory. They were our memory keepers. So, when I lost my child, Jess kept writing when she knew I couldn’t. When I was in the hospital she chronicled my time for me, writing down the little moments of pain and joy (and oddly there was joy) and revelation, the little details I told her over the phone. She kept vigil through letters. After I was home from the hospital, and my child forever gone from my arms, again I feared more than anything else having time or memory fall away. So I, too, kept writing. And since my daily habit was writing to her, my notes took that form. We never told each other about these letters, I guess fearing that they would only bring more sorrow, until we started thinking about our letters as a book. We were sitting at my kitchen table and the conversation went like this.

“Our story can’t be a book, because the turning point is empty. We wrote nothing then,” I said. “And I refuse to invent something about that time.”

“I never told you this,” she said. “But I kept writing to you.”

I stared at her, stunned. “I kept writing, too,” I said.

Later that day we sat together reading these unsent letters and crying. It was painful, but we were grateful beyond words. Our time, our hearts from that time, were held, preserved by those letters.

I have tears. The power of habit! I just want to sit in silence and reverence at how writing saves us.

This photo taken by Amy

What’s next for you on the horizon?

There are so many projects that have grown out of these books, articles, art exhibits, reading and activity guides, even possibly some small films (trailers, a short art film, etcetera), so I have my hands full. But I have a few new ideas percolating (sometimes festering!) away, so I hope by this fall I can begin a new picture book and possibly a novel!

That’s so exciting! God bless you, Amy, and all the works of your hands. Thank you so much for taking the time for this conversation. It’s been so very illuminating. May metaphors and good habits be sown in each and every reader. 

Ramanujan—may he forever contemplate the infinite beauty of God. I am so grateful to him, for many reasons, but chiefly because he brought us together.. This joy can only be surpassed by a visit. And when you do, we’ll make a pilgrimage down to Savannah and Flannery’s childhood home—perhaps we can arrange a book reading!

Vijaya, I have been so very happy to get to know you, too – to share math, faith, and children’s books is rare thing. And I know someday that trip, or another, will happen! It must

The Longest Lent--Easter Blessings

God is pouring so many blessings upon our family during this pandemic. Books are just one of them. A while back, I'd read in Publisher's Weekly about a new book, The Boy Who Dreamed of Infinity: a Tale of the Genius Ramanujan by Amy Alznauer, illustrated by Daniel Miyares. Holy smokes! I love his work. And after I took a peek with the Amazon Look Inside feature, I began to drool and knew I had to have it--the writing lyrical and luminous, the art capturing the beauty and pathos of this great mind. Then I read an interview over on Picture Book Builders and entered the giveaway and I WON!!!

The book arrived last week, along with a letter and a card made by Meltem Aktas. I love Byzantine art so what joy to know of Meltem and her work. I'll be sending links to our pastor at St. Clare of Assisi because we'll need art for our new church! I've read the book numerous times and shared it with the whole family. It is amazing how Amy has written about something complex so beautifully. It really does give you a glimpse into the mind of God. I felt the same way as a scientist--there is such beauty in numbers and patterns. I wept reading about the "thoughts of God on your tongue." How frustrating to not be able to share them with anybody! But thank God, Ramanujan wrote to Hardy and decades later Amy's father went to Cambridge and came across a box of paper including the Lost Notebook by Ramanujan. This book wouldn't exist otherwise and neither would I have gotten to know Amy. I've been perusing her gorgeous website with an invitation to Enter the Stories. I discovered that she was at the movie premiere of Ramanujan among other interesting bits... 

Amy has two more picture books coming out this year--The Strange Birds of Flannery O'Connor and Flying Paintings: the Zhou Brothers: a Story of Revolution and Art. Soooo exciting!!! You all know my own love of Flannery. I'm going to have to wait to get these books but in the meantime, I bought her memoir, Love and Salt: a Spiritual Friendship Shared in Letters. What a joy to read these private thoughts of two friends as they navigate marriage and motherhood and careers. They walk together, and together seek God. I loved this format because it is so raw and personal and honest and echoes so many of the thoughts I've shared with my sister and friends on my own spiritual journey. I'm in the middle of it and bawling. I'm also delighted by our similarities--the Ayn Rand phase, the Teresas, the preoccupation with death, the acedia, vainglory, and wonderment. This book is a treasure. I often think the most important writing I do is hidden--writing letters, writing prayers, writing hopes and dreams--and this book reminds me that it's good. To parody the last line of Charlotte's Web and Casablanca: It is not often that someone comes along who is a convert, a mathematician, and a good writer. I pray this is the start of a true and beautiful friendship. Deo gratias!

The Longest Lent--Reading

I don't even know where to begin after taking such a long hiatus from the blog. All is well after a very difficult couple of months--headaches mainly. But it's also been a period of many graces and miracles so I am thankful. Of course, all is not well with the world, so I'm praying for all who are sick, suffering, dying, their caregivers, families, our leaders, our priests. I thought I'd share what I often neglect--ebooks. I loved all of these books and hope you find some gems for yourself. 



Enid Blyton: the Biography by Barbara Stoney is such a wonderful and detailed biography of my favorite author when I was a child. I had no idea that critics didn't think her books were literary enough. The pox on them. Sorry. No one remembers the names of the critics but children are still enjoying her stories. I didn't realize how prolific she was but her writing process is enviable. She just sat and typed out what was in her head and it came out clean. Wow! This happens only very rarely to me.

Beckoning by Claudia Cangilla McAdam has the cast of characters from Awakening back in Jerusalem starting Good Friday. This time Ronnie's best friend Tabby is the one who tells her story. She's the daughter of the Centurion who pierces the side of Christ. I loved this so much, the healing, the miracle, and Tabitha's conversion. Wonderful writing, twisty plot, happy ending.  

The Bargain by Vanessa Riley. I don't read much romance anymore but when I did (in my late teens) there were no characters like me. It didn't stop my imagination but how refreshing to see brown girls getting the boy! 

A Robot Named Clunk by Simon Haynes. Again, I don't read much sci-fi anymore but many moons ago, I started writing the great American novel using Simon Haynes' yWriter. It was a help in organizing my jumbled thoughts. I no longer use it but when I joined Writer Sanctum (a wonderful board for self-publishing) I saw Simon there. He's always as ever helpful and so I got his robot book. Fast-paced and funny, I really enjoyed it. He has lots of interesting books. I hope you'll check them out. He's another like Enid, who just sits down and types out his story. He makes all his own covers too. 

Killing the Top Ten Sacred Cows of Publishing by Dean Wesley Smith. I've already talked about how if you purchase one writing book, you should consider Writing into the Dark. I loved it so much for giving me back what I thought I was losing, my voice, I had to check out his Sacred Cows--it is a great title, no?--and it will debunk many of the myths that are making the rounds in the publishing industry. I should know, I've been part for it for nearly 20 years. This book gave me the confidence to trust my voice and vision and to bring it to fruition. Thank you, Dean! 

Fearless Writing: How to Create Boldly and Write with Confidence by William Kenower was such a wise and gentle book guiding me to lose my many fears regarding this writing life. It was like having a good friend hold my hand through the tough times.  

Some People are Dead: Part Essay, Part Memoir, Parts Unknown by James Scott Bell is exactly that. I've always enjoyed reading obituaries but this was so much more, a reflection not only on people's lives but on society. I enjoyed this book very much, especially since I read it while I was in bed sick, contemplating death, and because he made me laugh with stories from his own life. I enjoy getting to know other writers, especially writers I admire. Mr. Bell is not only a terrific writer and storyteller, but a wonderful teacher.  

Snowmallows by Carol Ann Soisson was such a delight. It has everything I enjoy in MG fiction--active kids, good families, heart, humor, fantastic plot twists, along with science and faith. Wow! What a wonderful debut! I look forward to reading more stories from Carol Soisson! Well done!!! And because it's so pretty--I wanted to have a bigger picture of the cover!  

Happy reading and writing, my friends. What books have you enjoyed recently? Please do share in the comments. 

A Biography in Books

 

This weekend I did a little writing workshop with a mom's group. It was so lovely; gosh, I miss teaching on a regular basis and I'm thinking I will start offering these again when Dagny too, flies the nest. We spoke about mining our own lives and the books that impacted us. When I took the Magazine course (2002-2004) at the Institute of Children's Literature, I was asked to write a biography. This is what came out. I remember my life through the books I was reading at the time. When I took the Book course (2009-2011), I used the same biography, slightly amended regarding goals and such. Here is the biographical portion:

I am the youngest of four children, born and raised in India. My oldest brother died before I was born but lives on through stories that my mother told me about him. I’ve always thought of him as my guardian angel. My father went to Germany and then to the US for graduate studies. When I was six, we all moved to Cincinnati, OH. But my parents didn’t get along and my mother wanted to return to India, so she brought my sister and me back with her. My brother was fourteen at the time and he wanted to stay in the US. So we were a divided family, a family of letter-writers from a very young age. 

Our life in India was hard, especially for my mother. We were poor. My mother insisted on us girls having a good education, especially since she herself had been denied one. I did well. I enjoyed it. And I knew it was a privilege. I had a few chores at home. Then I was free to play.

My mother had a small collection of books and we went to the library regularly. I loved reading and books opened up the world for me. My favorite children’s author was Enid Blyton. Dickens was a close second. I read my first adult novel when I was twelve –  Magnificent Obsession by Lloyd C. Douglas. It is based upon the sentence in the Bible – let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth. And I understood my mother’s charity, in spite of our own poverty. The physician-turned-writer, A. J. Cronin, was also a favorite. I dreamed that I would be like him one day. But it was not to be.

We moved to the US again when I was fourteen. This time to Pullman, WA, a small college town. My father was a professor there in the engineering department. But my parents’ marriage dissolved within a year. They had grown apart. My mother got a divorce and set up a babysitting business. My sister and I did odd jobs and helped out. We lived simply. When I was sixteen I started taking piano lessons and we saved enough money in a year to buy a used piano. I still have it! I quit taking lessons when I started college – I went full-time on scholarships and worked half-time and there just wasn’t time for serious study of the piano. Science became more important. I was focused on becoming a doctor. I graduated from college in 1987.

Alone.

Devastated.

Free.

My mother died after suffering from stomach cancer for six months. My sister got married and had a baby and moved to Greece with her new family. It was the loneliest time for me. I never knew that I would miss them so much. And when the acceptance for medical school came, I was terrified. My faith eroded. There was no buffer. How could I borrow such a huge amount of money just to go to school? So I did the most practical thing I knew. I got a job.

In college I met the love of my life and after ten years, we married. Michael and I had a long-distance relationship. Both of us were independent and selfish and it took us that long to actually become ready for the commitment of marriage. After my mother died, I moved to California because that’s where Michael was. I lived there for two years, working as a microbiologist in a research laboratory. I did a bit of cancer research too and decided that I had to get an advanced degree. I didn’t like living there – I am a small town girl and I disliked the hustle and bustle and the bad air. But I did enjoy going fishing with Michael and reading tons of books. One book stands out in particular – Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. Powerful book. It gave me a moral compass at a time when I had turned my back on God. Our daughter, Dagny, is named after the heroine in that book!

I went back to Pullman for my PhD. It was rich time for me. I missed Michael terribly but thoroughly enjoyed my intellectual growth. I had a terrific mentor (this is one dept. where I’ve always been blessed). I didn’t just learn science. I learned to think, design experiments, critically evaluate data. It was a heady time, solving puzzles about the nature of life, of battles fought at the molecular level. And I got introduced to fine dining and dance.

Michael and I got married the last year I was in graduate school (after a rough patch – another long story :). He was working for a Belgian machine tool company and had to write some technical manuals. So he worked from home in Pullman. I got my PhD in Biochemistry and Biophysics, studying protein folding and protein export in the lowly bacterium, Escherichia coli. But I decided that last year that I would prefer to work on plant-microbe interactions at the molecular level in the future. Plants don’t scream and they make a wonderful addition to the bench.

Michael and I moved to Belgium for two years. He worked for the same Belgian company and I worked at the Max Planck Institute in Cologne, Germany. I examined the very early events in plant-fungus interactions and how a plant resists infections. And I learned a bit of French and German. We traveled and ate wonderful food and drank cheap French wine and enjoyed our pan-European stay. Three outstanding books that I read during that time are  Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth and Undaunted Courage by Stephen Ambrose.

Michael and I made a trip to India at the end of our European stay. When we got out of customs and made our way outside, I smelled the humid air, touched the soil and I wept. It had been 18 years since I’d left. We never had the money to go back and once I started working, never had the time. How I long to take my children there, to show them a piece of their history. Soon, soon …

I started a new job at Purdue University in Indiana. This time I examined wheat-virus interactions. And I put off reading a book – A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry – because it dredged up so many memories. Especially since I had just returned from India. But I read it eventually. Nancy, I now realize that this is the book that propelled me to write later. I bought Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott on a lark. My first writing book J   I was in Indiana only six months – Michael didn’t find any suitable work in the Midwest. He did get two good offers in Seattle and so we moved. All of his family is around here. On our long drive to the beautiful Northwest, I found out I was pregnant!  So I never bothered looking for a new job. I stayed home with my baby.

And how these babies grow! I will never regret staying at home. Max is almost ten now. And Dagny almost eight. I wish I could slow down time. I’m very aware of how little time we actually do have together, so I try to make the most of it by including the children in everything I do. In fact, when I said that I will need more help since I’m taking this book course, everybody chimed in and said that they’ll write a chapter for me! What a hoot! They’re terrific! All of them, including the pets. Wouldn’t know what I would do without them. Katherine Paterson in Gates of Excellence says, “For as I look back on what I have written, I can see that the very persons who have taken away my time and space are those who have given me something to say.” This resonates deeply for me. Because if it weren’t for my kids, I’d still be a lab rat. And if I hadn’t stayed home, I wouldn’t have found my second calling – to be a writer.

It’s strange to write an *all about me* letter after I’ve already met you. Feels terribly self-centered. But it is a good exercise. Looking back at this letter, I see that I define my growth through the books I’ve read. I have been transformed, Nancy, by some of these books. And that’s what I hope for my books, that they are that powerful, compelling. I know, too lofty, but I’ve always dreamed big. Jesse Winchester said, “If you’re skating on thin ice, you might as well dance.” Yeah!

A most recent development is my return to God and the Catholic Church. It has changed everything for me, including my writing. I won’t say more right now because this letter is already too long …  Your turn: tell me the books that shaped you.

My babies! Wouldn't have started writing without them

Easter Vigil, Apr. 11, 2009

 

Picture Books by Demi

 

I discovered Demi many years ago when my kids were little. We loved her folk tales, but especially her art. It is so distinctive and fine and we'd spend hours just looking at the pages. I was working on a folktale and decided to revisit her books and again, I was lost in them. She's got the rhythm of the stories just right. When she writes a biography, she chooses the best details. Even her endpapers are gorgeous! If you write picture books, biographies or folk tales, she's an artist to study. And one can only hope that the work is so good that a Pope will give his Apostolic Blessing. Wow!