verbatim

20

Twenty years ago today, I finally decided to try out this new "blog" thing, and here we are. As always, I thank you all for stopping by, even when you are otherwise distracted by the likes of social media (which didn't even exist back then!), and especially for joining in on the conversation. I was telling someone the other day that I have made some actual lifelong friends through this blog! The online world can often be really upsetting and discouraging, but I'm very happy with this tiny corner of it that feels like a nice place to call home.

Watched It. Read It. Cooked It.

I forgot to mention another movie we saw when Julie was home over break: The Iron Claw. This is the story of the Von Erich family of professional wrestlers from the 1980s. I actually sort of knew who they were although I never was a fan myself. The dad is this incredibly overbearing, bullying guy who will accept nothing other than a championship from his sons (the championship he never achieved himself). We all thought it was pretty well done but also crushingly sad—and that was even before we read that they left out of the film a fourth Von Erich brother who killed himself. Anyhow, I would say you should see this if you have any interest in/nostalgia for professional wrestling, or if you heart Zac Efron or Jeremy Allen White. Oh, and they really nailed the era perfectly—clothing, hairstyles, etc.

The next book on my pile was All Adults Here by Emma Straub, which tells the story of the Strick family. Astrid is the widowed mom, and her three adult children are Elliott, who seems to have a chip on his shoulder about everything; Porter, the only daughter; and Nicky, Astrid's (and seemingly everyone else's) favorite. There are other important characters, particularly Nicky's 13-year-old daughter, Cecilia; I have to say that I felt that she and her best friend seemed way too mature for their age, as did the Mean Girls at their junior high. But I did like this book very much; it doesn't have any huge, important themes, but it deals well with family and love and regret and loss and forgiveness and all that other good stuff. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it and really got a kick out of some of the plot threads. There's plenty of humor, but it's all very good-natured. If you happen to live somewhere warm or are going on vacation, I'd say this would make an ideal beach read—and I don't mean that as a put-down! It's just that kind of book.

I'm way behind on recipes, so I'll share two here. As usual, I forgot to take photos, but you can look at the photos in the links.

The first is a soup I've made several times. Andy's not a big soup fan and I am, so I usually have it for lunch. I freeze it in individual portions. 

Lentil and Kale Spinach Soup with Chicken Sausage

2 tablespoons olive oil
2 links fully cooked chicken sausage (6 ounces), sliced into thin rounds (These usually come in 12-ounce packages, so I freeze half for the next time. There are many different brands and flavors available.)
1 small onion, diced
2 small carrots, diced
2 tablespoons tomato paste
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 bay leaf
1 teaspoon dried oregano
6 cups no-salt-added chicken broth
1 cup lentils, rinsed and picked over
2 cups kale, stemmed and finely chopped baby spinach (2 ounces) (I just don't really care for kale, and I always have spinach on hand—and it doesn't need to be chopped.)
Chopped fresh parsley, for garnish (optional)

In a large pot, heat the oil over medium-high heat until it shimmers. Add the sausage and cook, stirring occasionally, until browned, about 4 minutes. Add the onion, carrots, and a pinch of salt and cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion turns translucent, about 4 minutes. Use a wooden spoon to scrape up any browned bits as the vegetables release their moisture. Stir in the tomato paste, garlic, bay leaf, and oregano.

Add the broth, lentils, and another pinch of salt (I used low-salt rather than no-salt broth, so I didn't add more salt here). Cover, increase the heat to high, and bring to a boil. Partially uncover and reduce the heat to maintain a lively simmer until the lentils are cooked and the flavors have melded, about 20 minutes. Taste to check that the lentils have fully cooked; if not, cook for 5 to 10 minutes more. Stir in the kale spinach, allowing it to wilt, about 2 minutes. Season with a few grinds of freshly ground black pepper. Remove from the heat and sprinkle with the parsley, if using.

 * * * * *

I made this next recipe for the first time last week. It doesn't look like there's much going on, but it was really tasty! I served it with basmati rice.

Turmeric–Black Pepper Chicken with Asparagus

¼ cup water
3 tablespoons honey
¾ teaspoon ground black pepper
1½ teaspoons kosher salt, divided
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1½ teaspoons ground turmeric
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
12 ounces asparagus, trimmed and thinly sliced on an angle
1 teaspoon unseasoned rice vinegar or soy sauce (I used the rice vinegar, but next time I might use both, as suggested by some of the commenters.)

In a small bowl or measuring cup, stir together the water, honey, pepper and ½ teaspoon of the salt; set aside.

In a medium bowl, stir together the flour, turmeric, and remaining 1 teaspoon salt. Add the chicken and toss until coated.

In a medium nonstick skillet, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Add the chicken and cook until the chicken is golden brown on both sides, 2 to 3 minutes per side. Add the asparagus, stir to combine, and cook until crisp-tender, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the honey mixture and cook, stirring, until the chicken is cooked through and the sauce has thickened, 2 to 3 minutes.

Remove from heat and stir in the rice vinegar and/or soy sauce. 

Reviews

Look at me posting twice in one week! I want to review some books and movies before I forget all about 'em. 

For our last book group we read The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store by James McBride. I'd never read anything by him and was just dazzled by the writing! It's the story of a community of Blacks and Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe who live in a poor area outside of Philadelphia in the 1930s. We meet Moshe, a Romanian Jew, who owns a theater where you're just as likely to hear a klezmer band as a Black jazz band. His wife, Chona, runs the Heaven and Earth Grocery Store, which doesn't make a profit, mostly because she is so generous to all her neighbors. Well, except for the town doctor, who she has seen marching in a white KKK hood—and she does not keep quiet about it. Moshe's right-hand man at the theater is Nate, a Black man with an unknown past; his wife, Addie, takes care of Chona when she falls ill. And there's a full cast of delightful neighbors—Big Soap and Bernice and Paper and Fatty and Malachi. The plot comes together around Dodo, a young Black boy who lost his hearing when the kitchen stove exploded, but I won't say any more than that. I wasn't surprised to find out that McBride is the son of a Black father and a Jewish mother—in fact, that explains a lot! Nor was I surprised to learn that he is a jazz musician, because the book really does feel like an improvisation—and I mean that in the best way: it reads with riffs and flourishes and moments of sadness and unequaled joy. I really can't compare it to anything else I've ever read, but I do recommend it. Although it tackles some very tough topics—mostly bigotry and intolerance in all its worst forms—I closed the book with a feeling of warmth and hope.

After that I took the suggestion of faithful blog reader Deborah and read Anxious People by Fredrik Backman, and I am so glad I did! The plot is pretty unusual: A bunch of people are being held hostage (well, sort of) by a foiled bank robber (well, sort of) at the open house of an apartment for sale. We also get to know the police officers assigned to the case, as well as a number of other peripheral characters. On the one hand, there are parts of the book that are pretty sad, and there is reference to a suicide that occurred years before. But I also laughed out loud at dozens of other completely preposterous scenes that somehow rang true. There was so much heart, and so much humor, on every page that I began to put the book aside after a while just because I didn't want it to end. I really loved this one. (Bonus! A friend recommended Backman's Instagram, saying that each post is like a fun little story, and she's right! Check out this one, for example.)

I read some other books but nothing worth talking about. Sigh. Keep those recommendations coming!

We watched The Holdovers long before we'd even heard of it. Julie was home for winter break and Andy and I were looking for something to watch with her. I think it had just been released, and I saw Paul Giamatti's name and thought we should give it a try. And I'm glad the timing worked out that way, because I liked it well enough but definitely didn't love it. If I'd known it was going to get nominated for all these Golden Globes and Oscars, I probably would have been pretty disappointed! You must know by now it's the story of a curmudgeonly teacher at a boys' boarding school in New England in 1970. A handful of students have nowhere to go over Christmas break, and this teacher draws the short straw and has to stay with them. The only other person there is the school's cook, played by Da'Vine Joy Randolph. I did not know who she was, and although I thought her acting was great, I was thoroughly distracted by her attempt to do a Boston accent. I'm very picky about this, and I'm sorry to report that she's right up there (down there?) with Tom Hanks in Catch Me If You Can and Rob Morrow in Quiz Show. It was not necessary for her to have the accent, so I wish she just hadn't tried it at all, because it kept pulling me out of the film. (I thought it sounded like Boston mixed with Brooklyn or maybe the Bronx, and then I read that she's from Philly, which explains a lot.) The main kid is played by Dominic Sessa, who I liked very much. But overall the film was formulaic and unimaginative, and definitely not "Best Picture" material. There's also a line Giamatti had to deliver at the climactic moment that is probably the last thing his character ever would have said. Ah well.

To change things up, Andy and I watched The Killer, starring Michael Fassbender. There's almost no dialogue in this one, just Fassbender's voice-over letting us know what's going through the assassin's mind. (Things like "Stick to your plan. Anticipate, don't improvise. Trust no one. Never yield an advantage. Fight only the battle you're paid to fight.") We really liked this one, despite some rather sizable plot holes. (I'd also like to point out that an experienced assassin would never use a gag name on his fake passport—having just explained to us the importance of blending into the woodwork wherever you go so as not to be noticed or remembered by anyone.) But the plotting and gadgetry and intrigue were extremely entertaining. If you like the action-thriller genre, you can't go wrong with this one. Oh, and Tilda Swinton is in it, always a good thing!

We then finally slogged through Oppenheimer, all 15 hours of it. It was really interesting, but WHY did it have to be so long?! There were far too many scientists and politicians to keep track of; I found that I couldn't and also that it didn't matter. This was my first time seeing Cillian Murphy, and he's just fascinating to watch. His eyes are so unusual, I couldn't stop staring. (Andy was already familiar with him from Inception and Peaky Blinders.) And I'm happy to watch Robert Downey Jr. do just about anything, so that was a treat to see him in an unlikely role (member of the Atomic Energy Commission). So I'm not sorry I saw this, but I am sorry that the director and editor couldn't have found a way to delete about an hour of unnecessary footage.

And then we watched a Canadian film called The Decline, about a group of people who go to a survivalist training camp. Something really bad happens, and then a whole bunch more bad things happen, but that's all I'll say. This one was really tense and exciting. I liked all the actors and really did not know how it was going to turn out. We watched it in Quebecois French with English subtitles, although I have since learned that there is in fact a dubbed English version—according to Wikipedia, "all of the original cast dubbed their own dialogue to ensure that the accent of Francophone Québécois speaking English would be accurately represented." (But don't go to the Wikipedia page right now because it gives away the entire plot.) Two thumbs up on this one!

This last item is not a book or a movie, but while we're discussing the arts, I thought I'd mention that I played hooky one day over Julie's break and we went to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. We tried to cram in as much as we possibly could, but I think we would both say our favorite exhibits were painters Matthew Wong (this one ends next week, so hurry if you want to go!) and Dinorá Justice (through mid-April).

I'm Game

Do you still play Wordle every day? I sure do. But I don't look at any social media* or texts or anything before I play because I don't like seeing people's completed grids, even without the words! If I see, for instance, one of those patterns where you can tell it's a rhyming word (NIGHT/SIGHT/LIGHT...), or if I see that people had no correct letters in their first two guesses, that gives me clues. So I play first thing before I do anything else online. Then, in a private chat group with some editor pals, we post our completed grids, and a screenshot with the words filled in, and then (big-time word nerd alert:) we each write a sentence using all the words! Meanwhile, I'm on a (drumroll, please) 202-day Wordle streak! (Which means I probably just jinxed myself for tomorrow...)

Then I go over to Merriam-Webster and play Quordle, where you solve 4 Wordles at once, and then Quordle Sequence, where you solve 4 Wordles in a row. And then I do Blossom, which is similar to the NYT Spelling Bee (more on that below), but I like it even better. You have the same setup, with 7 letters surrounding 1 additional letter that has to be in all your words. But here you can make only 12 words, so you want to find the longest ones. And for each turn, one of the letters gives you extra points. It's not as complicated as it sounds, so if you like Spelling Bee, give this one a try! Just give the rules a quick read-through because you want to maximize your points on each turn. My high score so far is 456, but I haven't come that close in a while.

I never played Spelling Bee until a few weeks ago because for some reason I had gotten it into my head that it's a race, and I do not like timed games at all. (I don't even time myself on the NYT crossword, which I do every evening, at my leisure, preferably with a cocktail in one hand and a cat on my lap. I totally get why some people want to challenge themselves to solve as quickly as possible, but to me that would be like seeing how fast you can finish a nice meal. I prefer to take my time.) Anyhow, it turns out that you can take all day to do the Spelling Bee if you like—and I often have to! There's also a Spelling Bee Buddy that will tell you how many words you have left, and will also give you the number of letters in those words as well as their first two letters. I do often have to go there to figure out my last few words. But I don't take any actual clues unless I'm really stuck, and in that case I don't crown myself Queen Bee because it feels like cheating.

And then I head over to Connections, which I really enjoy. I haven't lost since the first couple of times I played when it was in beta and I wasn't really clear on what to do. I would say that at least 25% of the time I come down to the last 4 tiles left and have no idea how they are connected, but I just choose them by default—it's nearly always the purple row. I wrote in suggesting that they add a 17th "distractor" tile, in which case I would definitely lose once in a while. (And they could still arrange them neatly in a 3 x 4 x 3 x 4 x 3 grid.) I doubt they will do it, but that would make it much more challenging. Maybe they could add it as a "hard mode" option?

And that's how I start my morning. Oh, and I also still play SET, which I love because it seems to use a whole different part of my brain than these other games. And I do a few nonograms throughout the day, which is also not at all word-related. My new thing there is solving them without filling in any Xs! It's really challenging and very rewarding when I can do it.

I used to also play Octordle and Sedecordle and a bunch of others, but it got to be too much. But the other one I like is the weekly NYT Flashback quiz, where you have to place a series of historical events in chronological order.

I'm also always in the middle of a bunch of Scrabble and Letterpress games, so hit me up if you'd like to play.

*Speaking of social media, I still mourn Twitter. I didn't close my account because then someone can steal my username, but I don't hang out there anymore. It's so sad. I'm still at Bluesky (and have a few invite codes if you'd like to join), but it just doesn't feel as compelling as the good ol' days of Twitter. I'm also on Threads, and that seems to be where I go when I want to say something. But I say a lot less there or anywhere than I used to. I sorely miss all the give-and-take with my large Twitter gang of editors, authors, journalists, lexicographers, linguists, and librarians, plus all the foodies, Boston-area folks, progressive Democrats, political analysts/historians, cat lovers, etc. I've found some of them in these other places, but it's just not the same. Sob. (And eff you again, Elon, for taking down something for no good reason.)

Making Books

Happy New Year, everyone! I hope your 2024 is off to a good start.

It's been so long that I've posted a roundup of recent books I worked on that I'm just going to pick a few here and ignore the rest—and hope to do better in 2024.

This first one, Perfectly Good Food, was one of my favorite books I edited last year. Margaret Li and Irene Li are Boston-based restaurateurs, known especially for Mei Mei Dumplings. But this book is really geared for anyone who buys, cooks, and eats food. It's all about how to stop wasting food you spent good money on and also how to be more creative in the kitchen with what you do have. You'll learn how to use up stuff that is a little past its prime (wilted spinach, limp celery), how to use the parts of stuff you usually throw away (carrot tops, broccoli stems), how to make a great meal out of whatever is hanging out in your fridge (not just soup, either!), how to store food so it lasts longer, and more. And it's got delightful drawings throughout. I just love this book. [I also love the shout-out I got in the Acknowledgements: "To Karen Wise, thank you for your detailed, thoughtful copyediting and generally making this book so much better (especially the life-changing lemon tip)." That tip would be, of course, that you can freeze whole lemons and limes!]

Next, another book from Michael Ruhlman—I forget how many of his books I've edited over the years, but in fact I'm working on another one right now! This time he takes his genius system of ratios for cooking (from his book Ratio) out of the kitchen and onto the bar cart for The Book of Cocktail Ratios. The idea is, if you know how to make a Manhattan (2 parts whiskey, 1 part sweet vermouth, plus bitters), you know how to make a Rob Roy (2 parts Scotch, 1 part sweet vermouth, plus bitters)—just switch out the booze. If you know how to make a Daiquiri, you know how to make a Whiskey Sour; if you know how to make a Margarita, you know how to make a Cosmopolitan; you get the idea! There are lovely illustrations throughout, of both the finished drinks and the formulas to make 'em. 

And if you've had a few too many cocktails? Maybe take a look at The Complete Guide to Healthy Drinks (this one I proofread). Make your own kombucha? Why not! Or smoothies. Or teas, juices, seltzers, and more. You can never go wrong with the recipes from the knowledgeable folks at ATK, and the photos are luscious.

And finally, not a cookbook, but a positively gorgeous photo memoir from Melissa Newman, the daughter of Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. It's called Head Over Heels, and it documents the lives of this very public but also very private couple. Clearly theirs was a love for the ages. (For this one I edited the captions and did some fact-checking; talk about a labor of love to get first peek at all the photos—some never before seen!)

Year-End Wrap-Up

As usual, I'm beginning by apologizing for not checking in sooner. I kept meaning to, really...

I've been reading a lot but can't really recommend anything—one dud after another, it seems. I even twice allowed myself to stop reading a book midway! Same with movies, unfortunately—nothing I'd urge you to see. Please pass along any book or movie recommendations, and fast!

Work is going well. I am so lucky to have a job that I really love. I know I will want to retire at some point, but I'm not even ready to pull back a little yet. Maybe next week I'll do a roundup of interesting books I worked on recently, but here I'll just say that I edited Anne Lamott's latest, which will be out in April—that was such a delight and an honor I can't even begin to tell you. 

The kids are all doing well, and we even got to go out to dinner with all of them and their Plus-1's at the end of October! I was walking on air. Those of you on Facebook/Instagram have already seen this (unfortunately slightly blurry) photo, but I look at it a hundred times a day, so here it is again:

Also in October Andy and I celebrated our 35th anniversary! Which seems impossible since I think I'm only 39 years old... We had a lovely dinner in the North End and our wonderful waiter hooked us up with this swell celebratory dessert: 

We had a very small (for us) Thanksgiving this year—only 10 people!—but that meant that we could all sit at one big table for the first time. And yes I still made an obscene amount of food (2 turkeys! 5 pans of stuffing!) because we do love our leftovers around here.

So here we are at the end of the year. 2023 was a big year for funerals Chez Verbatim, unfortunately. The first loss was a big one, our dear friend Rodger, who had been battling glioblastoma for about a year and a half. Rodger was the one who introduced me and Andy way back in 1986, not even as a fix-up but just his usual way of getting all his friends together whenever he could. He didn't have much in the way of family, but he had more friends than anyone I've ever known. We tried to see him as much as possible after his diagnosis, especially toward the end, and there would often be a whole gang of us visiting him and reminiscing, usually over lunch and with much laughter.

After Rodger, Andy and I lost three (yes, three!) aunts all in the space of three months. It's a blessing to have so many relatives in their nineties (including my mom and Andy's parents), but that means there's always an expectation of loss on the horizon.

I don't know if you have ever been to a Jewish funeral, but there are two parts of it that I find very meaningful. The first is the recitation of the Mourner's Kaddish, which I've known by heart since I was very little—it's also recited at all regular Shabbat services because there's always someone in mourning. At Shabbat services at my temple, and at many others, the rabbi asks those who are in mourning (either having just lost someone or on the anniversary of the death) to stand if they wish and say the name of the person who died. It's a way for the others in the congregation to know who might need support, and it's quite a powerful experience—one that I first experienced when my dad died back in 2014. So at a funeral, there's something very comforting about reciting those familiar Hebrew words in the same rhythm and intonation along with everyone else, knowing that you're all sharing this experience, albeit in your own way. Another important funeral ritual is after the graveside service, to allow anyone who wishes to come up to where the casket is already in the hole and throw a shovelful of dirt onto it. It's considered a final good deed you can do for the person who has died. In fact, after that part is over, at some funerals a group of friends and relatives will grab shovels and fill in the rest of the hole, rather than let strangers (cemetery workers) do it. It's a show of respect. And let me tell you, it's an incredibly powerful moment. It's also good to feel like you can actually do something when you're otherwise feeling so helpless.

And then comes the shiva (the post-funeral gathering), which is all about eating and hugging and crying and eating and telling stories and laughing and eating and saying "Why do we only see each other at funerals?!" and just being together in sadness but with shared memories.

I would like to not have to go to any funerals next year, please and thank you. I wish everyone health and happiness and peace in 2024.

Reading on the Beach

For the third year in a row, Andy and I spent the last 10 days of September up in Maine! It's our favorite time of year to go because everything is still open but the crowds are gone. Even before covid, I was never nuts about being in a crowd, but it's even more the case now. I don't like walking down crowded streets and I really don't like being shoulder to shoulder with people on the beach, like those old photos of Jones Beach. I'm also not a fan of hot weather and am smart enough not to want to expose myself to too much sun ... but I love the beach and the ocean! So the solution is to go in the fall. The weather was glorious—we had on jeans and T-shirts and bare feet every day and maybe a hoodie later in the afternoon. And what did we do there? A whole lot of nothing. Read. Snoozed. Ate lunch. Watched the waves. Watched a few people walk their dogs. Watched the occasional surfer, and one guy kiteboarding (check out this 9-second video—sorry I couldn't figure out how to embed it), which we'd never seen! That was the only very windy day (remnants of Hurricane Lee, apparently), and it was thrilling to watch. One day we met up with friends and had an epic bocce tournament—we practically had the whole beach to ourselves to play in any direction! We had lots of good meals, including the requisite lobster rolls and mountains of fried clams. One day we drove up to Portland and poked around in the little shops and then had some splendid Belgian fries at the aptly named Duck Fat. I did have to do a couple of hours of work each day, but that was OK.

I read two books that I recommend. First was Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt (recommended by Elena, I think?). I don't know how to describe it in a way that will make you want to read it, but it's about an older widowed woman who works as a janitor at an aquarium in Washington State and becomes friends with a giant octopus. No, really! It is a terrific book—sweet and touching but not at all sappy. I enjoyed every minute of it.

The other was Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver, which was for my book group, but then I missed the meeting because I was still away. You may remember that I enjoyed Trust but did not feel that it quite deserved its Pulitzer; well, this one sure did. A modern retelling of David Copperfield, it's the story of a boy born to a teen mom who lives in a trailer in Appalachia. He is smart and resilient, but the world seems to be throwing everything it has at him in the way of poverty, bad schooling, disastrous foster care, opioid addiction, and loss after loss after loss. It's on the one hand crushingly sad but on the other hand somehow uplifting and even funny at times. I really loved it and found it to be an important, powerful read.

Next up is Somebody's Fool, Richard Russo's third Sully book (after Nobody's Fool—yes, the one that was made into a movie starring Paul Newman—and Everybody's Fool). What have you read lately?

Third Time's the Charm?

I have twice written a very long blog post and twice managed to lose it! ARGH! I'm positively bleary-eyed at this point, but I'll try to reconstruct it yet again.

I think I started with a recap of the summer? I don't remember anything about this summer except that it was too hot. We did go up to Maine for 3 days in July—somehow miraculously managing to pick the only 3 sunny days in the middle of 2 solid weeks of rain! (Andy and I were reminiscing about a summer vacation many years ago when the kids were little—maybe 3, 5, and 7? We rented a house at the Cape and it rained for 6 of the 7 days. Somewhere we have a photo of the 3 kids in their swimsuits, kneeling on the couch looking out the window at the pouring rain. Good times...)

I finally went to a movie theater, for the first time since well before the pandemic! Julie, Andy, and I saw Asteroid City. If you are a Wes Anderson fan (we sure are!), you will love it. He has his usual favorite actors (Tilda Swinton, Jason Schwartzman, Bryan Cranston, Edward Norton, etc.), but Bill Murray was noticeably absent because he caught covid and had to back out! Steve Carell took his role and did a great job.

What else happened this summer? Oh, I went to another conference! This wasn't my usual American Copy Editors Society conference, but the considerably smaller Editorial Freelancers Association conference, which is held only every couple of years. It was in Alexandria, VA, and we lucked out because the weather was not nearly as hot and humid as it had been right up until we got there. The hotel was in the Old Town neighborhood, which is filled with lots of cute restaurants and shops. So I saw friends, learned a few things, and even went on an excursion: On the last afternoon three of us ditched the sessions and took the Metro to DC to visit Planet Word! It didn't exist the last time I was in DC, so that was fun. It's filled with lots of interactive exhibits and other fun things—definitely a treat for this word nerd! There's also plenty to do there for (older) kids, if you're planning a Family DC Trip anytime soon.

I also wrote a bunch of book reviews, but they are getting shorter and shorter every time I have to rewrite, so I apologize for that:

Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami: I was going along really liking this, even though metaphysical fiction is not really my thing. But then he had to go and write a really really really upsetting scene involving cats being tortured! It just about did me in. Why Why Why

Trust by Hernan Diaz: I enjoyed this and read the whole thing eagerly, but I stopped short of saying "This should win the Pulitzer" (which it did). It takes place among the NYC aristocratic banking set of the 1930s (so you know what's about to happen next...), and is told by four very different narrators in four very different styles. The writing was excellent and engaging, but I just didn't feel captivated the way others did—for instance, NPR's Maureen Corrigan (read or listen to her review here).

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin: I really enjoyed this but didn't love-love-love it the way others did. The book is about the video game industry, and a major theme is how women game creators can't advance in the industry and don't get adequate credit for their work. So a big problem for me was that before I read it, I saw this thread on The Artist Formerly Known as Twitter describing how a game in the book is clearly a ripoff of a real-life game created by a real-life woman—but she's given no credit or acknowledgment in the book! Here's a story in WaPo about it; the comments are good too. Boooooooo.

Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus: Ditto: I really enjoyed this but didn't love-love-love it the way others did. Once again we have a woman not recognized in her field; this time it's a chemist in the 1960s. Through a series of plot twists, she ends up leaving her job and becoming the star of a TV cooking show—although she always says it's chemistry, not cooking. Her particular style captures the hearts and minds of women all over the country. I ended up feeling like the main character was not terribly believable (although I loved her dog!), and the book was too long for what it was. The ending also left me meh.

Tom Lake by Ann Patchett: This one I absolutely did love-love-love! (No surprise, as I'm a huge Patchett fan.) Lara (née Laura) and her husband and three twenty-something daughters are hunkered down at their Michigan cherry farm during the pandemic lockdown of 2020. They are grateful to be safe and healthy but also wary about the future. While harvesting this season's cherries, Lara tells her daughters the story of her teenage summer many years ago, when she performed in Our Town by Thornton Wilder at the summer stock theater in nearby Tom Lake, where she met and fell in love with future movie star Peter Duke. I know Our Town inside and out, and it's so important to this story that I have trouble imagining how someone could read this without knowing it—it's almost a character in its own right. This book is all about young and mature love, about wishes and regrets, and about the people who come in and out of our lives. I loved every minute of it—Patchett is at the top of her game here.

Tattoos on the Heart by Gregory Boyle: I rarely read nonfiction, but whenever my dear old friend Paul sends me a book, I read it. Paul has been volunteering at HomeBoy Industries in LA for a while now. From their website: "What began in 1988 as a way of improving the lives of former gang members in East Los Angeles has evolved into the largest gang intervention, rehab and re-entry program in the world." (There's a HomeGirl branch now, too.) All of this was started by Father Greg, a Jesuit priest who embodies more compassion, energy, and light than most of us can imagine mustering. This book of essays captures all of this—and will make you laugh and cry and want to make a difference. Andy's reading it now and loving it. It's good to be reminded every now and then that there are angels walking among us.

Just Like the Before Times

You guys, I actually went somewhere! Read on...

After covid finally caught up with me and Andy at the end of January, we have started venturing out just a wee bit—first because we felt we had the protection of some built-in immunity from having had it, and then because we are trying to re-enter the world in some small ways. So we've been out to dinner a few times, and I went back to book group, and Andy rejoined his gym, and that sort of thing. I still wear a mask every time I'm in a store or other public place like that, but I'm starting to try to not be so uptight otherwise. I definitely do not want to get it again (I know people with long covid, and it's a nightmare), and I certainly don't want to pass it to my mother or in-laws (all in their 90s), but these baby steps are feeling OK for now.

Back in spring 2020, my beloved American Copy Editors Society conference was canceled due to lockdown. It was supposed to be in Salt Lake City. Then in 2021, it was canceled again, this time in Atlanta. In 2022, a slightly abridged version was held in San Antonio; I was definitely not ready to think about travel yet—and even if I was, I certainly wouldn't have chosen Texas. (Don't get me started.) So this year was scheduled to be in Columbus, Ohio, and I went! As did 800 other editors! And it was just as glorious as ever—possibly more so, since I had so sorely missed it. I masked as much as possible, but had already decided I would be going to restaurants with my pals. Within walking distance of our hotel was a really great food hall, with stalls featuring every kind of food you can imagine—tacos, gyros, ramen, pizza, etc.—and then communal eating areas, so we all pretty much went there for lunch every day. My favorite dinner was at The Pearl—how serendipitous that our checks were presented to us slipped into hardcover books! We also had fancy-shmancy cocktails one night at Mouton. I presented my workshop on recipe editing, and it was a big success—I had never had such a huge turnout, and it was really gratifying. I saw old friends and met new ones, and all in all had a splendid time. And guess what—no one got Covid, at least that I heard of! So that was very encouraging. For me and many of my friends, this was our first time away from home since the pandemic started. Next year it's in San Diego, and I can't wait! I'm going to try to convince Andy to tag along and maybe we can tack on a few days before/after and make a mini vacay out of it.

But that's not all! I'm planning to go away again in August, to Alexandria, VA, for the Editorial Freelancers Association conference. It will be beastly hot, but I'm really looking forward to it.

Oh wait, I forgot to say that the keynote speaker at the ACES banquet was Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist Connie Schultz. She was fantastic! She talked mostly about her relationships with the editors at the various newspapers she's been at (including one editor who was present!) and at her book publisher. I really wish I had recorded it but I was too busy being spellbound. I knew Schultz had written a memoir about being on the campaign trail with her husband, Senator Sherrod Brown—with the great title ...and His Lovely Wife (she took time off from journalism so as not to create any kind of conflict of interest). But I didn't know she had also written a novel, called The Daughters of Erietown, which I read as soon as I got home. In her speech, she said that a lot of the book is autobiographical—for instance, she grew up in a small working-class town in Ohio and was the first person in her family to go to college. I really liked this book. One of the reviews at Amazon nails it: "While Schultz’s compelling narrative and realistic characters will keep readers turning pages into the night, her eye and ear for real-life details set this novel apart from other domestic sagas. Part tragic love story, part powerful testament to shifting cultural norms and the evolution of the women’s movement, The Daughters of Erietown is an impressive first novel with a big heart." 

Other than that, I've been a homebody. There was work being done on the house in Maine all winter, so we haven't been up there since last fall. We don't love the crowds in the summer, but we'll go up a few times and count down the days until fall, when we will again go up for 2 weeks and have the whole beach to ourselves. Hopefully I'll remember to stop in here a few times before then!

ALMOST Two Decades

Whoops, I missed my own Blogiversary! Last week this blog turned ALMOST 20 years old! (I’m editing this a few months later … math is apparently not my strong suit, as it’s been “only” 19 years!) As always, I want to thank those of you who still stop by to read what I've written, and to leave a comment (here or on Facebook or Twitter or by email or telegram...). I will keep posting here for as long as anyone shows up, and I do so appreciate those of you who've been here for nearly 2 decades, or even just 2 minutes.

While I'm here, I'll share a really delicious recipe from Food & Wine that I made a couple of weeks ago. It's not quite authentic paella (hence the quotation marks I added to the title!) since the rice does not get brown and crunchy on the bottom to form a yummy socarrat, but it's still excellent and well worth making. As usual, I forgot to take a photo, but there's a nice one at the link. Break out a nice bottle of red for this one.

Skillet Chicken and Chorizo "Paella"

½ teaspoon saffron threads
3¼ cups lower-sodium chicken broth (This is just a few tablespoons less than two 14.5-ounce cans), divided
1 tablespoon olive oil
6 ounces dry-cured Spanish chorizo (I loooooove Palacios brand), cut into ¼-inch-thick slices
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1½-inch pieces
1½ teaspoons kosher salt, divided
½ teaspoon ground black pepper
¾ cup chopped yellow onion
1 small red bell pepper, finely chopped
4 small garlic cloves, minced
½ teaspoon smoked paprika
1 (14.5-ounce) can diced tomatoes, undrained (I don’t love chunks of tomato, so I used a can of crushed tomatoes, and it worked out fine.)
1½ cups uncooked short-grain white rice, such as bomba or arborio
1 cup frozen peas, thawed
Chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley, for garnish
Lemon wedges, for serving (I didn’t use these.)

Stir together the saffron and ¼ cup of the broth in a small bowl. Let stand at room temperature for at least 15 minutes or up to 1 hour.

Meanwhile, heat the oil in a 12-inch cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chorizo and cook, stirring occasionally, until lightly browned, about 2 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the chorizo to a plate lined with paper towels; reserve the drippings in the skillet. Add the chicken, 1 teaspoon of the salt, and the pepper to the skillet and cook, stirring occasionally, until lightly browned (it won't be fully cooked), about 7 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the chicken to the plate with the chorizo. Do not wipe the skillet clean.

Add the onion and bell pepper to the skillet and cook, stirring occasionally, until tender, about 5 minutes. Stir in the garlic and smoked paprika and cook, stirring constantly, until fragrant, about 1 minute. Stir in the tomatoes and rice and cook, stirring constantly, until the tomato liquid is almost fully absorbed, about 2 minutes. Carefully stir in the saffron mixture, remaining 3 cups broth, and remaining ½ teaspoon salt and bring to a simmer.

Return the chorizo and chicken to the skillet and stir lightly to partially cover everything with rice/tomatoes, then sprinkle the peas on top but do not stir them in. Turn the heat down to medium-low and cook, without stirring at all but rotating the skillet occasionally to evenly distribute the heat, until the chicken and rice are tender and the liquid is almost fully absorbed, about 20 minutes. Remove the skillet from the heat, cover (I used a baking sheet!), and let stand until the liquid is fully absorbed, about 5 minutes. Garnish with the parsley and serve with lemon wedges.