Happy All The Time

Hi friends.

My dog was sick this past week and was in some pain and the vet prescribed some pills and bed rest for two weeks. The pills part was easy enough — that dog will eat anything as long as there’s some peanut butter involved. The bed rest part is more difficult. I could easily draw a map for you of all the places that dog would like to visit on a daily basis to get pets on the head and treats from friendly neighbors. Even though he is a senior gentleman and has slowed down quite a bit he still would like to be out in the world getting a little air.

Alas, it is not to be at the moment. Out of solidarity I decided to stay with him in bed for the first day. It was a little chilly out, too, so it was nice to be wrapped in all the blankets, and he curled up at my feet. But while it was cozy I admit I was a little sad, too, a little blue, thinking about the passage of time, and how long he and I have known each other, and how my dog used to be so rascally and inquisitive, but how he was ailing, quieter lately, although more easily satisfied, and still a happy guy. Still. He snored and I thoughtfully stroked his head. Little dog.

I decided I needed to read something as a distraction but also I knew distinctly that I needed something to lift me up. I couldn’t read anything moody, because I was already there, in that mood, and truthfully that mood is a hard place for me to rest lately. Perhaps when I was younger I needed to explore those feelings and learn from them, but no longer, I’ve gotten enough out of that state of mind. I don’t want to live in denial about the state of the world — I know things are tough. But I need to be more actively looking for the good or I’ll never get out of bed in the morning. So what I wanted — what I needed — was a good book.

I fucked around on the internet for a while asking for suggestions for something to read and then suddenly I remembered an author I had never read before but had been suggested to me dozens of times: Laurie Colwin. She’d been on my mind a little bit also because she’s the inspiration for a character in Dan Kois’s charming new novel Vintage Contemporaries, which he and I will be discussing this week. I should probably catch up, I thought. Maris suggested I read Happy All The Time and Jason suggested I read Emily’s piece on Colwin (always read Emily on anything) and then I downloaded the book and was good to go. (I am surrounded by a big beautiful brain trust and I love it.)

The book was, of course, just what I needed. I’m not going to review it here because if you haven’t read it yet, I wouldn’t want to spoil the plot for you. But it reminded me of a perfect scoop of ice cream with some chocolate sauce served in a vintage sterling silver dessert bowl, everything delicious and charming and just so. Everyone was safe in this book, and everyone believed in the possibility of love even as it made them feel vulnerable at the same time. Everyone was a little (but not too) neurotic and wise and talented and witty. Friends looked out for each other. People were just trying to figure out how to love each other and be calmer and more content. I laughed out loud at parts, texted some favorite lines to friends. It was 224 pages long, one of the best lengths for a book. I was happy, or at least a little happier, in bed, with my sick dog, reading this book.

As it lifted me up, it also made me think about the things I try to say in my own work. I don’t write books like Colwin’s, though I wish I could. I don’t see the world in the same way as her, but also I don’t live in the world that she lived in — I’m writing forty-five years later now. It would be great to make people feel that way, though, the way I just felt reading it. My novels do other things, I think. They have another kind of job to do. (There are so many jobs for books to do!) And they can still keep you company.

And then there’s the job they do for me: writing them helps me to process my feelings. So I don’t have to sit in bed all day.

But these letters I write to you, maybe they have some hope in them in the same way Colwin’s work does. So at least there is this one most optimistic output. What a gorgeous gift that we can write all kinds of things in our life. Colwin wrote five novels, three collections of short stories and two volumes of essays and recipes. I think I have at least one or two more genres left to explore. Just to try new things is rewarding. And to see how your voice sounds as you try them.

I hope you find a book to read this week that gives you just what you need.

Jami

You are reading Craft Talk, the home of #1000wordsofsummer and also a weekly newsletter about writing from Jami Attenberg. I’m also on twitter and instagram. I try to answer comments as best I can, which are open to paid subscribers. You can subscribe here or give a gift subscription here. (If you are a teacher let me know, and I will give you a free subscription.) Fifty percent of the proceeds will go to various cultural, educational, and social justice organizations in New Orleans (and sometimes elsewhere). This week’s donation went to Nola Abortion Fund.