The kid has been having issues with falling asleep lately. Polling the other parents at her school, this seems like a very common phenomenon that is occurring in many households at bedtime; kids just don’t want to go to sleep. For my daughter, her unwillingness to go to bed falls in two categories; scary dreams, and FOMO.
When it comes to scary dreams, the wife and I have been working with the kid by reading stories and books where the hero character over comes a fear or anxiety. We also talk to her about focusing on the best parts of her day, or what she would like to do the next day. This generally works. The FOMO, on the other hand, has everything to do with mom and dad watching cool tv shows after she’s in bed. She’s already an eager fan of prestige television.
The other night, the wife came up with an idea to help the kid fall asleep, which was to play an eight-hour track of rain sounds and rumbling thunder. The results of this addition to our nighttime routine has been wonderful, as the kid easily and quickly falls asleep. No scary dreams, no fear of missing out on what happens next to Ted Lasso. Just a calm and peaceful sleeping child and the gentle rolling of rain and thunder.
There is another side effect of this sound addition to our home; I have discovered that I remember all the lyrics to “Riders on the Storm.” (If you know the song, you know what I am talking about.) And I can’t help myself. The second the rain sound starts in the kid’s room, I begin hearing Jerry Scheff’s bass, Ray Manzarek’s Rhodes piano, and John Densmore’s drums. Then my inner Jim Morrison comes out, and the lyrics just roll along with the thunder. It might not be the best song to sing to your kid before she goes to bed, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
The kid is on Spring Break! Not only am I the primary caregiver in our home, I am also the primary entertainer! I need to keep our daughter occupied for the next week, so the peace can be kept. See, the wife works from home, and I do as well for that matter, but I need to strike a balance between all parties, so the wife can work, and I can get my stuff done, and the kid doesn’t stare at a screen for the next ten days.
In some far-off magical future, I’ll have a vacation home upstate that we will go to. Way off in the woods, a creek would run through the property. We would hike, and camp, and do outdoorsy things. At night we’ll build a fire in the back yard, roast marshmallows. You name it, right?
One day…
For now, I am forcing her to do chores with me like grocery shopping and doing the laundry. All the stuff grade school kids love to do. Maybe I’ll make her clean her room! Vacation time is chore time.
No, I won’t be that dad. I’ll take her to a museum, probably the Whitney. We’ll head out and do some book shopping at the Strand. I’ll take her out to lunch. Last year we went disc golfing, and I think we’ll try that again.
The one thing that I did do on this first day of Spring Break, was make her take a walk with me in the local park. Just us, walking and talking. Well… she talked and I just listened. She told me about school and her friends, and her American Doll that she got for her birthday. The kid still likes me enough to talk to me, and not that I think she ever stop talking to me, I just know teenage years can be trying, and there might be a hiatus of her sharing her life with me.
So, I’m going to enjoy the time I’m getting with her.
I remember I was in a writing group back in college, and the professor leading the group said he had two rules that he wanted us, a group of burgeoning writers desperate for approval, to follow; 1. Don’t write about yourself, and 2. Don’t write in second person. I understood the first rule because it’s hard to be objective about yourself, but the second rule, that I never got. What’s wrong with second person? Now, I’m not saying that “Quaintrelle” by Kristin Garth is about Kristin Garth, but it is a short story written in second person. And it works.
The story doesn’t mess around and starts off with a good hook; there is a salacious mystery, the “you” protagonist is defined, and the antagonist is also delivered as “…your devout Mormon mother, also the assistant principal.” It was very effective opening, as I knew the sides, and understood what the conflict would be. And we are introduced to the “bad girl” of the gifted class – Mavis Tate. Mavis takes an interest in you, and you are thrilled by this girl who is popular but also doesn’t fit in, just like you don’t fit in, but in a different way. The conflict is the mother trying to stop the influence of Mavis on you.
With the plot of this story being defined early, and rather straight forward, it left Garth ample time to delve into the pull of Mavis on the protagonist. I also liked that these kids were smart. The protagonist is smart enough to know that she is being taken in my Mavis for a reason, some ulterior motive, but the desire to be “cool” and accepted in junior high is so great, that she cannot say no, even though she knows there will be a priced to be paid. And also, Mavis knows the right things to say, the words that need to be used to push the right buttons to get the protagonist to follow along. But ultimately, the protagonist knows that she is up against a force and a will that she cannot defeat; her mother. Even when the mother tells her the truth of Mavis, it only backfires. The protagonist acquiesces to her mother demand that she not be friends with Mavis, but that destruction of the friendship only creates a new, internal rebellion as the protagonist learns that mother cannot control her thoughts.
See, second person can be used well as a dramatic device. Especially when used by a good writer.
(The short story “Returns” by Annie Ernaux appeared in the November 14th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)
(Yes, I will SPOIL this story.)
Illustration by Sébastien Plassard
The New Yorker publishing a shorty story by Annie Ernaux for this issues, is the equivalent of a company softball team bringing in a ringer to bat cleanup; Like this story was going to be bad. Such is the world of publishing a Nobel Prize winner writer.
But why was it good?
The story is simple, or, more like, is direct and to the point. Plot wise; Daughter comes to visit her elderly mother who lives alone. But the first sentence sets the tone for the piece succinctly:
The last time I saw my mother at her home, it was July, a Sunday.
Immediately, there is a feeling of sadness, mourning, even regret, coupled with Summer and a feeling of relaxation as it is a Sunday. We are loaded with emotional information that only us and the writer know. We have been made a confidant as well as a witness as to what will follow.
The story is told in three sections, three acts. The first, the introduction of the setting and characters, as well as showing that there is some awkwardness between the mother and visiting daughter. The second section goes deeper into the awkwardness between mother and daughter, showing that the teenaged years were difficult and filled with fights and screaming. These are two people trying to make amends; the mother wanting to daughter to stay longer – offering gooseberries -, but the daughter is willing to leave early if the conversation lags. And the third section, the narrator acknowledges that the mother has no power over her anymore. The memories of the narrator’s former life come back to her, again showing that she was unhappy there, and wanted to leave. Then a stray cat arrives, which the mother feeds and allows to stay, and for a short time the mother and daughter find a subject of conversation. And then the climax, the daughter goes to leave, but the mother gives her a form she needs help filling out, but the daughter refuses to do it at that time. The daughter promises to fill it out and send it back to her mother at a later date, which upsets the mother. Then the narrator describes leaving the town, and how the places fade behind her in the distance. Finally, we learn the mother soon suffers sunstroke and is admitted to the local hospital. When the daughter returns to the home, she finds the gooseberries in the refrigerator that she forgot to take, but now the berries are spoiled and brown, liquid lump.
This story flows easily like water in a stream; it gently takes you where it wants to go. It moves so well, that all the little tricks to elicit an emotional response are but ripples on the narrative. We know that death is coming from the first line, and short stories love dealing with death, but Ernaux talks about death by not saying death. It is hinted and lingers in the background of what is to follow. As the story continues, there is the tension between the mother and daughter, shown by the slight bickering about locking the front door. Moving deeper in, we learn the reasons for this tension, knowing that this is not something that is easily overcome. But these two don’t hate each other, as when the cat arrives, we see that they can connect and share. But as we know, all visits must end, and we see how the mother tries to prolong their time. By this point, we understand each characters motivations, what they want, and how they cannot give the other what they need. The melancholy comes through these passages. These are the last moments, and this last interaction isn’t acrimonious, but also not affectionate either. This is the parting one has when you believe there will be another Sunday, and another chance to make up for lost time. It is all implied, and never directly spoken. And as the daughter rides the train home, and she does love her mother, from her description of leaving, we know that she doesn’t want to be there. And when the end of the story arrives, as we knew it would, the gooseberries in the fridge serve as the button for the story; the lost opportunity that withered and died.
In talented hands, storytelling seems so simple and effortless. Breaking this story down, examining it, it’s like I can hear the important notes that Ernaux is hitting in the middle of this melody of a story. It is impressive, this level of skill.
Annie Ernaux doesn’t need my endorsement, but she is a ringer.
(Speaking of which; Yes, that’s right; Speaking of which, if you have enjoyed what you read, take a moment to give a like, or a share, leave a comment, or follow this blog. Not only does it help my standing, but it will help agents verify that I have a following.)
In case you missed it, I am a stay at home parent currently. Will I return to the traditional work force? Not sure yet, but it is a thought that I keep kicking around my head, as a second income would be beneficial to our family. My old career was in arts/theatre administration, but being that I am middle aged-ish, or at least I am knocking on that door, the idea of switching careers often comes when the wife and I talk about careers.
Recently, my daughter started introducing, or insisting, depending on the evening, that we watch these mini golf videos on YouTube. They feature two people, Brooks Holt and Elisha, who go around the country playing different mini golf courses. Some of the places they go are rather basic, while others are fascinating in their ingenuity. A few courses, which are indoors, play like a Rube Goldberg machine. The videos are fun, my daughter loves them, and it has inspired us as a family to go out and play mini golf, which has been great.
As Brooks and Elisha go around playing golf, I started wondering; do the owners of these mini golf courses design these places themselves, or are their firms out there that do this stuff?
You guessed it, of course there are firms. Good for them, if I might add. And I wondered how one gets in that business? I am sure some are family businesses, but do these companies go out and recruit people from adjacent fields? Like, landscape designers, or set and prop builders from theatre and film? What skills do you need to have to be successful in that line of work? (I bet there is a story there.) Looking at some of their websites, a few of the companies have been around for forty plus years, so they must be good at what they do. If there is a need, you know there will be a business to provide that service.
Not that I’m about to start a career designing mini golf courses, but I do respect the people who do it.
(Speaking of careers; could you help me with mine? Well, it’s more like a hobby that I hope helps me buy a new laptop. Either way, if you enjoyed this blog, please take a moment to give a like, or share the post, and a comment wouldn’t hurt. I mean, following this blog would be the cat’s pajamas, but use your discretion as to what you see as appropriate.)
