For the past few weeks, I’ve been lugging The Arsonists’ City from floor to floor in our house wherever I go. I stuffed its weight, all 442 pages of it, into my black bucket purse when we adventured recently to forest preserves outside the city, whether I’d have the time to read or not. Its pages are now curled and worn.
Despite the growing list of promises I’ve made to myself to complete such and such task by some random, specific time – just to give myself deadlines and hurl over the mountain of work – this morning before dawn, I abandoned my list and just read.
I read for two glorious straight hours in the basement, lit against the darkness by a salvaged lamp we brought home a few years ago, its yellowed base soft against the inky morning. With my legs tucked under me and a hot espresso in hand, I fell deeply into the story, finally and effortlessly. It’s my favorite kind of book – expansive in scope and varied in narrative perspective. A family saga set in the States and the Middle East, all hyphenated-identities and textured grandeur. Gosh, the writing is like poetry.
And because the author, Hala Alyan, is a friend, I imagined her craft process throughout.
How does our knowledge about creators alter our understanding of their art? How does our understanding of a creator’s world shape the way we absorb their creations?
Last week when I managed a short reading clip before the kids rose for school, I texted Hala: “I’m 100 in to your beautiful book and just met Nawal. I feel enveloped by you every morning before the sun rises and I get to read.”
”Yayyyyy hayati inti,” she responded.
I sent her this video for laughs until this morning, when I texted her again.
“Omg I am so glad you gave us the gift of Mazna and Zakariah’s storyyyyyyyyyy,” I wrote, giddy with happiness to know the mother’s back story in part two. “I love him. Was tearing through the pages half gasping half crying.”
“I love him too,” Hala wrote back. All heart eyes.
Still today, I stole another half an hour between coffee and cleaning, and couldn’t help but text her again, mouth agape at the gorgeous, astute metaphors.
They pass a checkpoint and Mazna arranges her face like an open window.
She tries to catch her aunt’s eye, to see anything revealing, but Seham’s expression is smooth as butter.
Mazna feels her breath catch at her throat like a champagne bubble.
The memory of yesterday morning drifts across her mind like pond scum.
“Hala! C’mon. How do you come UP with these?” I asked, to which she responded, “I think it’s all the poetry I read. My mind is wired that way.” Later, I added: “Also I had a weird feeling of falling in love with my name when seeing it on the pages. Like as I watched Nawal in the book come to life, I felt more alive too.”
How does our knowing of an author’s process help us make sense of their stories?
I have so much to do. I want to move into Spring Break week work “lite,” so that I can focus on the kids and enjoy some time outdoors. But I think I’ll sneak in a bit more reading first. Maybe we can go to the park and I can bring my book?
Slice of Life, Day 28
It’s amazing to know the author as you read the book. You know their voice in person (and their personal experiences.) it’s such an enriching experience. Thank you for the book recommendation!
How completely fun to be able to reach out to an author as you’re reading their book and tell them you’re appreciative that they’ve included some of the stories you’re craving! It does make your understanding of the creative work really different!
Is this the book you mentioned in our zoom call last month? I couldn’t write it down (arms!) I wanted to read it. Just checked and it is audible as well. I think I just found my next book. Thank you!
I think it rounds out a book to know the author in some way. I am fortunate to know several kidlit authors, and I appreciate their work in ways that I can’t with authors I haven’t met. How lucky that your latest read was written by a close personal friend, available at the tap of a text!
Nawal, you recommended I read Everything Sad is Untrue, and I became an instant fan. Your endorsements hold great weight. Thanks to this gorgeous reflective blog, Hala’s book, will definitely be going on my April TBR list. I’m so glad you had two glorious hours to get lost in the story. I appreciated the excerpts you shared immensely, and I could picture you curled up in your basement in the soft glow of the light. Your details linger.
Reading Hala’s response, that her writing is improved by being a reader… of poetry! Gaaahh – such a good reminder.
Oh, Nawal, what a beautiful description of your reading and conversing with Hala. It is poetry too–"soft against the inky morning" for instance. How fun is it that Hala is a friend writing this beautiful book? I’m happy for you and her, and I’ve added her book to my want to read list.