I'm jumping in for a mind dump before I disappear for a bit. Aside from an August deadline that's eating my lunch (whatever that means), Mikella, Riggs, and I leave soon for almost a month in Europe. What? Of course, it's research. I can't write about scoffing down tortellini in brodo with a bottle of Lambrusco without having lived it…a few times. Do you see the sacrifices I make so that you will be entertained? That's love, friends.

 

Last week, Mikella and I got to hang with astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson. He's magnificent in person. We were both so taken aback by his level of presence during our conversations. Like, Zen-Buddhist present. When he speaks to you, there's no one else in the room. He confirmed something that has always boggled my mind, that there are indeed as many stars as there are grains of sand on earth. Think about that one…

 

How did this come about? Good question. We were attending a VIP breakfast (apparently they were short on VIPs) before Neil gave the commencement speech for Unity Environmental University, a fantastic school up here in Maine focused on producing graduates who will go on to take care of our planet. The university is now mostly online, so they can make their world-class education accessible to anyone eager for a degree, no matter their station in life. More than one graduate walked the stage with a baby in hand. How cool is that!

 

This all started when one of my readers, a woman named C.J., wrote me last year to share that her father had founded Unity and that she'd love to introduce me to the current president, a dynamic powerhouse of a human named Melik Khoury. I've become a proper friend of the school and sure hope to include them in a story one day soon. 

 

All the speakers were extraordinary; I haven't wept like that in years. Neil started out by saying, “Let me give you the cosmic point of view, dear graduates,” then went on to blow all our minds. What got me most was when one of the graduates sang the “Star-Spangled Banner.” She was clearly sick, and her voice gave out halfway through. As you can imagine, she was mortified, whispering apologies into the microphone. But everyone jumped in to sing and finish the song. It was a beautiful moment inside the Merrill Auditorium here in Portland.

If you like writer craft talk, I've just signed up to join the team of Writer Unboxed as a regular contributor. My first article, First Drafts and Other Torture Devices, published today, and I had a ball writing it. You'll see exactly the struggle of a writer's life and also get a clear update on where I am with the new story.

 

Lastly, I want to talk about Emily St. John Mandel. She's an author of otherworldly talent. I first came across her by reading Station Eleven, a hopeful and riveting take on a potential post-apocalyptic scenario. It was also turned in a sensational show on Max. I don't know why, but I put off reading Sea of Tranquility and The Glass Hotel till recently. Oh, boy, she is so damn good. Starting with crime stuff, she's moved into a sort of speculative, sci-fi, time-traveling, post-apoc vibe. I'd buy her cookbook if she had one.

 

Emily gives me abundant hope for humankind. With artists like her gifting us with their creations, sharing the magic they make with the divine, I know we'll be okay, despite all the ugly out there. Because the ugly will always be trapped in the shadows of such beauty.

 

What's most fun is she breaks all the rules. She head hops, time hops, breaks the fourth wall, switches from limited to omniscient and back. She does whatever she wants apropos format. But she never once strays from telling an amazing story.

 

The Glass Hotel makes you work harder because the point of view often changes, sometimes visiting loosely related story lines in different locales, but the payoff is incredible. The Sea of Tranquility, on the other hand, soared by, a time-traveling tale of immense beauty. If you don't know her, read Station Eleven first, but they're all worthy of your time. In fact, I've included all three in my list of favorite books.

P.S. Please forgive me if I don't respond to your emails. Know that I joyfully read each one. In fact, your notes keep me going. It's just that I best put my energy into meeting the next deadline. Thanks for understanding.

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