A Visit from Lauren Groff

Walking and talking with the best.

Hi friends.

We had more than 100 people in my backyard this past Saturday. We listened to the stunning Sabine McCalla sing in the most captivating and brokenhearted way and then Lauren Groff spoke with a voice of gentle authority and wisdom. I think pretty much everyone who attended walked out inspired. I am always very proud of Lauren but especially proud to have her in my home, speaking to my community, and watching everyone be so drawn to her words. It was a really special day.

At one point I asked Lauren two questions that are on my mind lately: How do we write through challenging times such as what we are experiencing now? And why does art matter in this moment?

Some nice person on the internet transcribed her answer so I thought I’d share it:

“Art is the best of humanity. It is the distillation of all that is good about human beings...narrative is the thing that makes us human...Narrative is a way to put a tent peg into the ground in the present and reflect backwards but also reflect forwards. Narrative is the reason we are here in this horrific situation [in America] because we have allowed this country’s narrative to be overtaken by the wrong people who are telling lies. I believe that what we do is of profound and daily and extraordinary importance because we are chasing truth, even through the elements of fiction, and it's reminding people that they're not alone. And it is the way that we reaffirm to each other what it is to be human.”—Lauren Groff

I also loved taking a long walk through the neighborhood with Lauren on Friday night after dinner, all the way from the far end of the Marigny to the far end of the Bywater where I live. When writers are on tour often what we get to see of a city is only a hotel and a downtown and that’s it. I really wanted to show her my favorite houses, and all the little but significant corners of my life.

So we decided to walk and take our time. We had eaten everything we had ordered, had not left a scrap of food on our plates. To have full bellies is a real gift. And it was a nice night; spring had sprung officially the last week of Mardi Gras. It was even a little muggy, and I grew wistful for a moment for the few weeks of cooler spring now clearly behind us. (I love being a little wistful.)

On the way home I steered us toward the Marigny Opera House. We saw someone in the doorway and I asked if they’d let us poke our heads in to see the space. I knew Lauren would appreciate its beauty. We talked to the managers for a while, and suddenly I knew more about the history of the space than I ever had before, even after living here for nearly a decade, and all those times I’ve been there to see performances. All because I was taking a walk with my endlessly curious friend. I always want to be showing Lauren new things because she appreciates it.

Then we crossed the train tracks from one neighborhood to the next and there was sky all around us I felt my soul open up a bit. To me, to see the sky, it always feels like luck.

I’ll stop there, I think. With all of us just thinking about luck.

Jami

You are reading Craft Talk, the home of #1000wordsofsummer and also a weekly newsletter about writing from Jami Attenberg. I’m also on bluesky and instagram.