Long Live Lily King!

I discovered Lily King this summer and have been devouring her books. They share many motifs -- divorced parents, awful dads, babies given up for adoption -- but she kaleidoscopically recombines them for fresh narratives every time, starring realistic (that is, not always likeable) people making difficult decisions. 

                                                       

She frequently writes about writers, and there is some good advice to be found. I happened to read Ann Patchett's Whistler immediately after King's Heart the Lover, and both mentioned the Icelandic novel Independent People. Intrigued, I did a little searching and found that King and Patchett are friends and support each other's work. I'll be reading that doubly recommended book soon.

Here are my summaries, stripped of spoilers. 

The Pleasing Hour, 1999 An ambitious first novel. Rosie, between high school and college, has left behind a child that she gave to her sister, in order to act as au pair to a family with three children in France. We meet her, however, when she is living with the mother of the family she worked for originally. How does she end up there?

The English Teacher, 2005 A single mom and English teacher, Vida receives a marriage proposal from widowed Tom. Her son Peter is thrilled but Vida’s mantra becomes ‘what have I done’? She struggles with intimacy, starts drinking more, and is put on probation. Does this have to do with Peter’s mystery father? An interesting part of this novel is the chapters told from Peter’s point of view; it’s unusual to read about a teen who actually looks forward to having a stepfamily. Also, the parallels with Tess of the d'Urbervilles, which Vida is teaching; I reread this Thomas Hardy classic, thanks to this book.

Father of the Rain, 2010 In part 1, we meet teen Daley and her wealthy, alcoholic dad. Mom has left him and Daley is torn. In part 2, young adult Daley gives up a prestigious job and loving boyfriend to help her father get sober. It works for a few months, then he lashes out and she leaves. Years later, in part 3, Daley is married with kids, and dad is in the hospital. Who have they become? Can she and her father reconcile?

Euphoria, 2014 King’s first, and so far only, venture into historical fiction, set in the 1930s. Famous female anthropologist Nell and her jealous male partner Fen are studying a New Guinea tribe, with the help of a lonely Englishman, Bankson, who is obsessed with Nell. How will this love triangle resolve, and what will be its fallout on the natives?

Writers & Lovers, 2020 Casey is trying to be a writer. She’s in love with two men: a widowed writing teacher with children, and a young, struggling member of that teacher’s writing group. After much back and forth, she publishes her book, scores a great job teaching English in a too-good-to-be-true school, and chooses…?

Five Tuesdays in Winter, short stories, 2021.  Many of the same motifs recur in these short stories that read like novels: children being taken care of by young people, as in The Pleasing Hour (“Creature,” “When in the Dordogne,” “North Sea”); single parents finding love, as in The English Teacher (title story); rape (“Hotel Seattle”). Several star a protagonist who is a writer, most notably “The Man at the Door,” a magic realism fever dream in which a man begins by critiquing a novel the narrator hasn’t even written yet, then morphs into her alcoholic father.

Heart the Lover, 2025 This novel follows a three-part structure similar to that in Father of the Rain. The narrator is a college student who starts dating Sam. When it doesn't work out between them, she dates Sam's friend Yash. They're deeply in love and he comes to visit her in Paris where he is offered a job. Instead, he returns to the States and convinces her to join him. But when she arrives at the airport, he is not there. Years later, she is married with two children and learns that Yash is dying of cancer -- like her own son Jack. Will she find out what happened? This one made me cry, a feat very few books accomplish.

Bonus Atwood! 14 Days

I was looking through my "want to read" tags in Libby and found a piece of Atwood that I forgot! She edited a book called 14 Days, a collection of stories written by 36 different American and Canadian authors, and told by the inhabitants of a New York apartment building during COVID-19 lockdown. The anthology was a fundraiser for the Authors Guild Foundation, specifically for writers who were suffering financially during COVID-19 due to cancellation of their book tours and speaking engagements. Though it came out in 2024, before the memoir was published, it is not mentioned in the memoir, nor is her primary collaborator, Douglas Preston.

I wish I had not read Preston's preface, which rather pompously proclaims that this collection is completely different from the Decameron or the Canterbury Tales. I disagree. It is exactly like those collections, in that a group of varied characters get together and tell stories to pass the time. If he is referring to the twist at the end, honestly, anybody who thinks about it for more than a minute can guess what it is going to be. So don't. 

I found many of the stories entertaining, but several of them seem to have an agenda or an ax to grind. Several of them were implausible as oral narratives spoken on a rooftop, in that they were way too detailed and gave a lot of background, often historical, often pushing the recognition of minority groups. I have nothing against that, but rather than add to the stories, it just seemed to be stepping up on a soapbox placed there for a different purpose. 

The most confusing story, by Ishmael Reed, is about an academic and his wife who put together a discussion group about the Decameron. The attendees come with guns blazing, destroying Bocaccio for his lack of woke values. The white guy who just wants to read a book by a dead white guy is humiliated. What's ironic is that they are criticizing Bocaccio's didacticism while being didactic. Which is why I'm confused: are we making fun of cancel culture or agreeing with it? At any rate, we can still study old literature, in fact we need to, in order to learn about our history. If we only read things that espoused our values, we would learn a lot less. I'm pretty sure Reed (I won't call him Ishmael, haha) is with me on this at least partway, but let me know in the comments if I'm wrong.

Back to Atwood, I was a bit let down by her contribution, too, which is about a spider turned into a young woman and working as a bed bug exterminator. It's shorter than most of the stories and introduces the magical realism that will prevail by the end.

Five Guided Journals

I'm not the kind of person who just grabs a blank journal and writes effortlessly. I like to write but it helps to have a prompt and I certainly don't like writing about my emotions if I don't have to -- but I know I should. So I tried several guided journals in order to help me get a handle on those pesky feelings, hopes, and dreams.

(The links are purely for your convenience, I get no kickback if you click on them. I have tried to feature independent booksellers rather than rely on Amazon.)

Keep Moving: The Journal is by Maggie Smith, the author of the famous poem "Good Bones," about a flawed house with "good bones" as a metaphor for the world. This journal came out of her divorce, when she felt the need to write every day to in order to keep moving, hence the title. It is divided into three sections: revision, resilience, and transformation. I found the prompts interesting and completed a few, but it really is intended for someone going through a major loss like death or divorce. It didn't apply to me at the time so I have set it aside. 

The Daily Flourish also emphasizes resilience, as the third strength it seeks to build, after positivity and connection, through a science-based approach. This is a journal that asks you to how you feel at the beginning of the week, sets you a prompt within the week's theme every weekday, and asks you how you feel again at the end of the week; twelve weeks are included. I liked the structure, but I wish the journal reminded you at the end of the week to look back at the beginning for perspective. I also found the prompts overwhelming at times. Example: "Write without judgment about a situation you feel guilty about." Whew. I need that broken into tiny steps. Some prompts, like this one, seem more like an end of week exercise than the kind of thing I want to tackle after a long day at work. I skipped some days but I got through it and even restarted, which is saying a lot. 

The Big Life Journal takes a similar science-based approach. It discusses several mindsets: possibility, growth, gratitude, self-compassion, and freedom. Each section is divided into "my thoughts today," "building new beliefs," "practices," and an end-of-chapter reflection. I liked being able to skip around and focus on the section I felt like working on, rather than going strictly in order. It felt more like a workbook than a journal. I've completed lots of prompts and would go back for more. 

Let That Sh*t Go by Monica Sweeney sounded like a lot of fun. The tagline is "A journal for leaving your bullsh*t behind and creating a happy life." However, I found the prompts pretty repetitive and superficial. They all seem to be variations of "list the things you hate, and then scribble through them and draw the stuff you love on top." Perhaps this would appeal to folks with a more artistic temperament; I'm the kind of person who thinks therapeutic coloring is a good idea, but I actually get nothing out of it. I will be letting this one go.

Finally, the planner that spoke to my analytical and productive heart: The 90x Goal Planner. This is a 3-month planner that asks you to list your goals, break them down into doable steps, and revisit them regularly to note your progress and revise goals that were not completed. I loved it and am purchasing another one. Since it only lasts three months, it is perfect for my summer vacations (I'm a teacher). I know it's a planner, not a journal, but it felt good to spend time every day getting my goals (hopes and dreams) on the page, and outlining realistic steps toward achieving them. The guiding question "Why these goals?" helps connect productivity to emotions.

My Atwood Project, Part 19: The End

Well, I did it, I finished the project: I read or re-read all of Margaret Atwood’s published novels and short stories/short fiction. I read one of her children’s books, too, and some of the non-fiction.

What did I come away with? An even greater admiration for this great writer. I noticed repetition of motifs -- love triangles, lukewarm mothers, political unrest, evil aunts -- but I never got bored. (And let me tell you, I do get bored when a writer repeats the same motifs ad nauseam, like John Irving with his never-ending bears and prostitutes…) 

I found each novel fresh and original. 

I found that most of the traditional short stories (as opposed to the experimental short fiction) felt like the seed of a potential novel.

I found concern for our planet, and humanity as a whole, but especially for women. 

I found clever wordsmithing. 

I found stories nested inside of stories.

I found trios of women friends.

I’ve been asked about my favorites. I would have to say the first two books of the MaddAddam trilogy: Oryx and Crake, and The Year of the Flood, because of the detailed worldbuilding and three-dimensional characters. Atwood’s speculations are founded in real science, making the series scary in a too-close-to-home way. Why these over The Handmaid’s Tale? The explorations of the variety of ways of living in this not-too-far-off future are more interesting to me than the frighteningly flat future of The Handmaid’s Tale, though I confess Gilead is probably just as likely. 

If you are not into sci-fi, I would recommend The Blind Assassin, which won her first Booker prize. This is probably the most densely layered story-within-a-story narrative, with a twist on the love triangle that I won’t spoil for you. Or if you're a Shakespeare fan, Hag-Seed is a must.

Would I do it again? Yes. This time I would read it all in chronological order, as I set out to do, rather than grouping the two series (The Handmaid's Tale and MaddAddam) together.

I went on to read a couple of books that Atwood mentioned in the memoir. Alice Munro's Lives of Girls and Women (1971) is a connected series of episodes about a girl growing up in rural Canada. I didn't find it as engaging as Atwood’s work, in part because the chapters are very long, but I do see a similarity to Atwood’s eccentric mother figures, and the girlhood friendships that fade and rekindle. I can also identify with the smart young college-bound woman who lets hormones make decisions for her. 

I’m currently reading Ways of Telling (2026) by Xandra Bingley, a publishing professional who became a friend of Atwood’s after finding her a place to stay during her travels to the UK. Atwood writes the introduction here, trying her best to describe the nearly indescribable prose of these short narrative pieces. So far, they all have unconventional punctuation or very little punctuation at all, which makes reading them like drinking from a hose, or listening to multiple conversations in a crowded restaurant. UPDATE: After finishing this book, I'd say the stream of consciousness, write what you hear (or think) style is best suited to the chapters about a horse fair (and its jumble of merchandise and people) and Princess Diana's death, another jumble of people waiting out the long night before her funeral procession.

Next up: my reflections on several different guided journals. 

My Atwood Project, Part 18: Old Babes in the Wood, and Cut and Thirst

This last (for now?) collection of fifteen short stories, Old Babes in the Wood (2023), is bookended with a few stories about Nell and Tig, who are stand-ins for Atwood and her long-term partner Graeme Gibson, as she explains in the memoir -- see my post on Moral Disorder. 

"My Evil Mother," also issued as a standalone ebook in 2022, continues with the exploration of Atwood's mother figures. As most are, this one is cool and practical, but also maybe a witch. The story ends with you asking yourself about the fictions that parents create in order to protect their children. 

"Impatient Griselda" imagines a quarantine where  humans are helped by aliens who look like octopuses. The alien tells a quarantine group the story of the Griselda sisters: Patient Griselda marries an abusive noble, while Impatient Griselda follows her and works in the kitchen until she can seize her moment. When one of the humans questions this version of "Patient Griselda," which only has one young woman in it, the alien entertainer defends their version. A delightful example of strangemaking.

Another example is “Metempsychosis: Or, the Journey of the Soul” which “corrects” misconceptions about reincarnation by telling of a snail reincarnated as a customer service representative. What could they possibly have done to deserve this?? Also, note that neither the extraterrestrial nor the snail fits into binary male/female categories.

Two stories about historical figures, George Orwell and Hypatia of Alexandria, imagine interviews with them from beyond the grave.

One of the most intriguing stories is "Freeforall," which imagines a different way that the situation in The Handmaid's Tale could have gone. In both worlds, fertility is declining. Here, the cause is a rampant virus. The solution is Houses, which raise uninfected children and trade them for marriage. The Freeforall is an area in each city where infected people must live, much like the pleeblands in the MaddAddam series. 

For Atwood, writing about the dead often means writing about what they read. Atwood's farewell story to her father in Moral Disorder includes his enjoyment of a book about a failed expedition; here, her farewell to Graeme, “Wooden Box,” includes his enjoyment of the French inspector Maigret stories. “A Dusty Lunch” is a tribute to Graeme’s father, and includes letters and poems from his war days. 

"Airborne: A Symposium" introduces us to the trio of Chrissy, Leonie, and Myrna, who will reappear in "Cut and Thirst" (2024) which I found much more entertaining. In this latter story, an ebook standalone, the three aging women friends rally around Fern. When Fern left a self-important old white male out of her anthology, he and his cronies punished her with literary criticism. Don't they deserve to die? Or at least to eat Ex-Lax brownies?

The collection is a lovely mix of Atwood staples: the autobiographical, the speculative, strangemaking, contemporary women, historical figures, retelling of a fairy tale. I hope it’s not her last, but if it is, it’s an excellent representation of her breadth and talent.

I've reached the end of my fiction rereading project, and will post on my reflections soon. Stay tuned!

My Atwood Project, Part 17: Ban, Ban, Caliban!

Interesting that both of Atwood’s longer retellings, The Penelopiad and Hag-Seed, were commissioned, even though Atwood dabbled in the form in several short stories, such as “Bluebeard’s Egg.” I don’t count The Robber Bride as a retelling of “The Robber Bridegroom,” because it strays so far; perhaps “inspired by” is a better label.

While my reaction to The Penelopiad was lukewarm, I love Hag-Seed. Perhaps because I have taught The Tempest and am more familiar with that play than with the Iliad, which I am mostly familiar with through my Latin AP study of the Aeneid. What I love are the perfect parallels between the original and the adaptation, and the fact that The Tempest is actually going on inside Atwood’s retelling of The Tempest. Let me explain.

Felix Phillips is a successful director and is planning a production of The Tempest. However, his right hand man Tony is tired of being delegated to, and conspires with the board to get Felix fired. Tony, of course takes over. Felix goes into exile alone but for the ghost of his dead daughter Miranda. Starting to see the parallels? One of the cleverest is "Estelle," a woman with some pull in the government, who personifies the role of auspicious “star.” See what she did there? 

Felix gets a job teaching Shakespeare in a prison. Atwood says, in Book of Lives, "I set the book in a prison because everyone in The Tempest is imprisoned in some way." After a few years of establishing himself, Felix is ready to stage that production that he was never able to finish, and get his sweet revenge at the same time. The theme of prison appears also in Bodily Harm, indirectly in The Handmaid's Tale (the handmaids are not technically incarcerated but they are far from free), and very directly in The Heart Goes Last. 

It’s a delightful romp -- my only complaint is that the revenge goes down a bit too perfectly, but in order to mirror the happy ending of the play, it must, so there we are. If you are not familiar with The Tempest, Atwood includes a summary at the end, or watch the film version with Helen Mirren as Prospera, a female incarnation of the lead role, and Russell Brand as a hilarious Trinculo.

And we're nearly done! One more collection of short stories, and one more uncollected short story.

My Atwood Project, Part 16: The Heart Goes Last

The Heart Goes Last is another speculative novel. I can't quite say post-apocalyptic, because the disaster is less extreme than in Oryx and Crake, and there is no regime change, as in The Handmaid's Tale. Nonetheless, the catastrophe in the background is a financial crisis, and those are plenty apocalyptic for many people. Our two main characters, Charmaine and Stan, have lost their home and are living, if you can call it that, in their car. Charmaine hears of a new pilot program with job training and persuades Stan to check it out. 

The pilot program is the twin cities of Positron and Consilience. Consilience is a small town with a '50s vibe where Charmaine and Stan can move out of their car and into a home with a real bed. The catch is that every other month they leave the comfy house to their “Alternates” and spend four weeks in the Positron prison. Everyone has a job in both places, prison and town, so everyone is fully employed. 

Before officially signing on, Stan visits his aptly named criminal brother Con, short for Conor, and Conor warns him that no one comes out of that place alive.

I have to say I did not enjoy this book as much as Atwood’s other speculative work. I didn't find the world building as absorbing or detailed and I didn't like the characters as much. Granted, the MaddAddam series had three books in which to do the world building. But even if we just consider the second book, The Year of the Flood, I found the rituals and characters in the God's Gardeners community much more convincing than the faceless inhabitants of the twin cities. I also found the MaddAddam characters, especially Zeb and Toby, three-dimensional, whereas I found Stan to be a “Flat Stanley,” and Charmain no deeper. 

*Spoilers ahead*

We do get a couple of tantalizing glimpses into Charmain’s childhood, but no definitive revelation. Was she molested, and blamed for it? Does this explain her willingness to perform the gruesome prison job of “putting down” the less tractable prisoners in her own gentle way, so they suffer less than she did?

This book veers into the sexual in a couple unusual ways. One might think that when the couple returns to a more or less normal home that their marriage would resume as usual. However, they both become sexually obsessed with an Alternate, someone who occupies the house while they are in prison.

In MaddAddam, the Scales and Tails strip club is more or less what we would see today, with some extra attention to costumes. However, one of the big money-making secrets of the twin cities project is prostibots, or sex robots, customizable of course. And beyond that, top dog bad guy Ed is working with a shady company in Las Vegas to transform a person through laser brain surgery into a sex slave. The person's memories of prior love objects are erased, and they imprint upon the first face they see when they awake from surgery, preferably the person who ordered up the memory wipe. This just seems kind of gratuitous and less plausible Atwood’s usual fare. 

But to end on a positive note, this is an interesting critique of the American prison system and its disproportionately large role in the economy. Corporations are already running prisons for private financial benefit. Take away the laser sex slaves and it reminds me of 1984, a gritty and and in some ways realistic take on a totalitarian future, with a hapless couple caught in the center, forced to make impossible choices.