Write every day and other things on my list
It’s a sullen gray kind of day here in Oakland, and I’m puttering about trying to gather my thoughts. In fact, I am staring at a million little notes scattered across my desk. They say things like: “Drop book off to the Monterey library,” “Contact LA store for reading in the spring,” and “Write every day.”
I’ve been meaning to make one much longer note–a master list, of sorts–noting all the things I need to do (like bring in more income), want to do (return to Italy), and have done so already (wrote my book), so that I can tick them off one by one to see my progress over time, and yet have so far avoided it. So what is it about all these notes and lists and why do I keep writing them? Is it truly an organizing principle as I tell myself? Well, sort of. Think of it as a kind of mental map of how to get from A-Z.
When I set out to write my book, for example, I had notes everywhere, a mountain of prompts pasted to my wall, stacks of yellow legal pads filled with even more notes, phone numbers, contacts, questions, how to’s, etc. And that was just the start of it–from all that, there was the proposal to write, the agent to find, the publisher to corral. If I had paid any attention, I might have jumped ship long before.
But my note taking goes even further back. After recently unearthing an “ideas” journal that I kept more than a dozen years ago, I found the following notes about the books I hoped to write:
creating simple desserts, jams, preserved fruits…recipes with drawings, stories, notes, ideas…children, photographs from the beginning; the start of the garden, the growing season…tasting, eating, the passion
And a few pages later:
Food Stories-compilation; Glorious Food…colors inspirations, photos, montages, travels and inspirations
But honestly, back then there were more pressing matters, like managing to get off the ridge in tact, raising my kids, returning to school which included moving to Oakland, and then, actually writing, that is–doing the work. I’m already exhausted just thinking about it.
You see, more to the point, last night I went to my essay class and workshopped my piece about “home” that I wrote more than 2 years ago now. And after a week of laboring over it once again and still ready to drop the bomb on the opening graph, the class knew right off what was missing–the “conflict.” My prose was lovely and all, but I was still missing the crux of the story (the ”strong arc” my teacher said)–that is, the reason why I was living by myself with 2 young children at Henry Miller’s in the first place, and what it was about finding solace in home that was so important to the story, after all. “What are you avoiding?” they murmured.
Oh hell. Life goes on, thank God, but you know, sometimes you just got to get it down in print, and even though it was so long ago and is far removed from my psyche, it still feels hard to articulate.
Forgive me, I am rambling… in fact, not sure why I just wrote that or what it has to do with my notes and a gray day in Oakland, except that once again, I’ll confess, writing is hard, and trying to fathom a living from it even harder. So let’s just say that my scribbles and notes in fact do help along the way–and perhaps it’s only me that needs convincing, but they give me a place to dream, to organize and yes, imagine that larger story without summing it up in one perfect little package called a personal essay, or even a book–that is, just yet.
So to make this post even more of a ramble, if not to make myself feel just a little better about things, I’ll leave you with a few favorites from my done list for the year. Don’t be shy in telling me yours.
1. Finished writing my book and saw it through to get published
2. Developed or worked (and tested and retested) more than 100 recipes (85 in my book)
3. Solidified 2 food related projects for clients, one a potential product line for TJ’s
4. Started swimming again
5. Worked on 3 other cookbooks, not my own
6. Started this blog
7. Learned photoshop basics
8. Made a sourdough starter from organic grapes
9. Initiated a Facebook page and twitter account for my book
10. Did 3 live radio interviews, one w/ Gene Burns on Dining Around
11. Gave public readings from my book to sometimes large crowds
12. Spent a day in Chez Panisse’s kitchen, as a pastry “stage”
13. Cooked a wine dinner for Nepenthe/Pisoni family and guests
14. Made more than 80 jars of apple butter to go with book
15. Learned to make dried sausages, or salumet (a Pisoni family secret).
16. Bought myself gold shoes for my book release party
17. Threw myself a party at Caffe Trieste
18. Met Ruth Reichl, former publisher at Gourmet, and actually carried on a conversation
19. Saw my photo and story written up in the SF Chronicle’s Datebook
20. Saw my book hit the top 10 Cookbooks of the year list on Epicurious
Very inspiring Nani! Love it. Keep writing and cooking!! I am drnking Sangria (from the “book”) and dreaming of summer….have a bunch of lemons..gonna make lemon bars (from the “book”) Much love! Christy
Christy, so glad you are still enjoying my book, and via the Sangrias-a perfect Nepenthe moment.
Oh Nani, I can hear your heartbeat in this one. You were circling and viewing from a distant place.Then you came close. You made a list so that we could all share in your accomplishments, but more importantly, in your dreams. Thanks. We are all the richer for your hard work.I love the photos you include of all your cooking. Keep creating. Keep writing notes, keeping fresh ideas before your eyes. Erin is working on a quilt. I would love to try my hand at collage. We must be always willing try out new ways to keep the fire burning. I am enduring the heat of crafting the broken pieces of my life. If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen. But you’re in there, and so am I.
I hear that you’re heading towards a new book proposal.
Shalom, Maryxoxo
I think you are the tops, not to mention on the right track. To go forward, it is necessary to look back. You’ve achieved so, so much. I am so proud of you. I talk you up, “My friend Romney, who wrote the book…” The future is uncertain, but it is a luscious fruit, waiting for you to take several more bites.
Mary, thank you for following along in my circle and for sharing in my dreams and in my path.
Sonya, you are a dear. Yes, looking back and going forward; thank you for that and for going along with me too.
Oh, darling girl, yes! If I knew how a painting would come out, I wouldn’t bother to do it. It’s the wandering-through-the-thicket, the lost-and-so-lost-don’t-know-what-it-feels-like-not-lost stuff, that’s the kernel, that is the seed of the real growth that is the loam out of which the next stage grows.
Grace, I love your poetic words of wisdom, the wandering through the thicket and finding the seed of growth, the being lost a necessity to find ourselves. You’ve hit it spot on and I thank you for it.
I just made my first trip to Nepenthe, and just yesterday have finished the book. Made the Tortilla Soup last night for dinner. My wife said “okay, I’m never making tortilla soup again, you have it.”
Having a bound notebook with all the tasks is really great. You’ll see so many checked off, and realize that even though there are many to go, you have accomplished much.
Your book is fantastic and unique. This morning my “blog buddy Puna” opened up a package from me – your book. I have never met her, but her blog posts on food and family inspired me to send her a copy.
Love your work, keep up the musings!
Bob, thank you for sharing in my process and for sharing my book–
I too just made tortilla soup again. We love it here!
Keep it up, girl. You’re doing everything correctly and as you slow down from the frantic pace you’ve been keeping, the world will begin to catch up to you and bring you things to keep you going. Wonders happen every day, miracles take a bit longer–but only if pursued.
Nani….I ramble the same way, am at this moment surrounded by lists(peeled from larger lists); and in the same timing on a grey day, find myself meandering along the same thoughts. I think they’re lovely little jaunts and I feel even more at home (and sane)knowing I am in such fine company.
Here’s one item completed from my list:
1. buy a digital voice recorder…because my typing stinks and I lose my trains of thought waiting for my hands to catch up!
XXXOOO
That’s a heck of an awesome list – congrats. Can’t wait to see what 2010 brings.
Very nice post, Nani. It’s about writing and finding the truth, excavating what lies beneath the surface patterns. Your accomplishments last year alone are inspiring, but there are such deep life long accomplishments touched on here. Sometimes it takes a long long long time to find yourself on top of one ridge looking back at another, seeing that all those steps you took that felt like walking through darkness really did take you all the way to where you wanted to go. In your writing about the challenges of getting organized, you help all of us see our way to clarity. Thank you! xox Erin
Thank you Erin, for your own clarity and encouragement and for providing much needed inspiration during challenging times. Love the image of standing on one ridge top to look back at another, and the path in between..x
The lists, the million notes that flow into them, the outlines, schedules, calendars that derive from them are all another great imitation and metaphor for life, its ebbs and flows, its fits and starts, its eight-lane freeways and dead-end alleys. And a metaphor as well for creation, our own as well as the whole. Did the road to My Nepenthe follow a straight line? Did the project proceed at a steady pace? Probably not. It raced and trudged, flowed and oozed, it roared and whimpered, at times confident and proud, maybe even vain and arrogant, at others cowering with averted eyes. And all the while it was your life, unfolding before you and, as the previous commenter so eloquently expressed, taking you “all the way to where you wanted to go”. A line from a poem by Antonio Machado comes to mind: “Caminante, no hay camino, se hace el camino al andar.” Roughly translated: Wanderer, there is no path, we make the path as we wander. Thanks for this and for all….
Oye, I appreciate your words and insight into my little bit of chaos and for taking the time to write; so true that all this “rooting” is perhaps a metaphor for the creative path, the ebb and flow, of being in the process fully. And, thank you for the translation of a line from Machado’s poem. Such lovely words to live by!
what a year, nani!
what a “to-done” list of top twenty achievements for 2009.
good to keep in mind as you tackle 2010.