Trailer Wife

January ended so suddenly, it has taken a few days for the fact of our survival to really sink in. EVERYONE says that January is the worst in Fairbanks. Post-Christmas funk + 20 hours of darkness + lingering layers of ice fog = three weeks in Maui (for many Fairbanksans). But survive it we did. That is not to say that it wasn't one of the darkest months of my entire life (both literally and figuratively), but that's a story for another day. And maybe we got off easy - turns out that it's been unseasonably warm this winter (hovering around zero today), and the snowfall is way down at only 20 inches. In fact, it's the least snowy winter since they started keeping records in 1904!

With the shortest of months comes a wee breath of hope: temperatures are rising, we are gaining more and more daylight every day... conversations hearts alone have gone a long way to improve my outlook. And it might also be the Vitamin D - we finally got on the bandwagon and started taking a daily supplement. Almost immediately we felt more cheerful. In our heads? Maybe. But I'll take it any which way. I have been very bad about taking photos - the lighting is awful at the moment and I am lazy. But I will do better to get some shots this week - especially of mutant ice sculptures that have popped up around ventilation ducts and heated windows.

So... for the month of February I am going to be reading one short story EVERY DAY. I love short stories and feel bad that they get such a bad rap (I'm looking at you, Sam). I am almost always a little stunned and intimidated by how much mind-bending complexity and laconic grace is packed into a really good short story. When I read them, I imagine the author just sitting down beneath a window somewhere, writing out each sentence as it comes to them, fully formed and polished, and it makes me want to give up the ghost and become a truck driver. And even though I know that's not how it works, that they slave and suffer and struggle through each word, the finished product is so blindingly flawless (when it's good) that I can hardly breathe. I guess that's what I'm shooting for - literary asphyxiation.


February 1st: "Nothing Right," from Nothing Right, collection by Antonya Nelson, 2009.

February 2nd: "OBO," from Nothing Right, collection by Antonya Nelson, 2009.

February 3rd: "Kansas," from Nothing Right, collection by Antonya Nelson, 2009.

I picked up Antonya Nelson's newest collection from the Library's new arrivals section on a lark last week, and I'm so glad I did. I have been a fan of hers since she came to Oregon State when I was there a few years ago, as a participant in the visiting writer's series. She is so precise and energetic, so sure and quick-witted, that I found myself squirming with the rightness of her character's strange insights and blunders alike. She has a voyeuristic intensity that I really love. I had read "Kansas" in the New Yorker a few months ago and loved it. I loved it even more this time around. Here is my favorite passage from the story:

"Emily sat across from Henry at the table, staring into her coffee, trying to reconstruct the evening, completely prepared to take responsibility. But for what, exactly? For being drunk enough not to remember, she supposed. She could still recall Ian making them all laugh. The cop pulling over the drunks on the yellow brick road: lion, scarecrow, tin man, even that wacky dwarf, representative of the Lollipop Guild--reciting the backward alphabet, swinging their fingers to their noses, walking with arms outstretched as if on a balance beam. Round-heeled, blasted Judy Garland, in her earnest full-throated way trying to seduce the officer, inviting him for a romp in the poppy field. It had seemed like a good evening, Kay-Kay joining them for dinner, sticking around as the hour grew late, rocking Cherry Sue on her hip, helping Anna fix snacks, changing CDs on teh player when Ian complained about Henry's music... Emily had the impression that they had been trying to please the teenager, all four of the adults staging an impromptu production of Life is Worth Living, right here at this very table."