TBR [to be
read] is a semi-regular, invitation-only interview series with authors of newly
released/forthcoming, interesting books who will tell us about their new work
as well as offer tips on writing, stories about the publishing biz, and from
time to time, a recipe!
Give
us your elevator pitch: what’s your book about in 2-3 sentences?
Can
we pretend it’s a high-rise elevator (it’s a New York City book, after all) so
that I can take 3 long sentences? I’m pushing the elevator button now. Here
goes:
Alternating between
brief vignettes and sustained narratives, this memoir-in-essays tracks the
heartbeat of New York through the ears of a newcomer: in overheard
conversations on park benches, songs and cries sifted through apartment walls,
and in encounters with street people dispensing unexpected wisdom. Having
uprooted their settled life in North Carolina to pursue a long-held dream of
living in Manhattan, the
author and her husband struggle to find jobs, forge friendships, and create a
home in a city of strangers. The 9/11 attacks and a serious cancer surgery
complicate their story, merging the public with the private, the present with
the past, to shape a journey richer than either could have imagined.
Which
essay did you most enjoy writing? Why? And, which essay gave you the most
trouble, and why?
Since
my book is a hybrid (a memoir-in-essays) rather than a collection of essays,
it’s difficult to separate my process of writing the independent essays from my
process of shaping the full book, but I’ll do my best: “Signs and Wonders,” the
opening piece, was fun to write, as it represents the briefer, voice-propelled
essays in the book. For me, this kind of essay comes naturally, as I can snap
into my musical history (I was a vocalist) and delight in the sounds and
rhythms of the lines. This is not to say that I don’t attend closely to the
language of the longer braided, segmented, or narrative essays as well. But
because longer essays require so much revising and reordering and reshaping
before they are finished—a process that often stretches into years—I tend to
remember their hard labor rather than the more joyous moments that were of course
part of their making as well.
Tell
us a bit about the highs and lows of your book’s road to publication.
Oh
dear, do I have to? Chronicle the lows, I mean? Following up on the “hard
labor” note above, I prefer to be like those women who claim not to remember
the pain of childbirth. Suffice it to say that it was indeed a long road we
traveled—the book and I—on
the way to publication. But each step (or misstep, perhaps) brought the
manuscript closer to the book it was destined to become. I guess what I’m
saying is that the highs and lows merge in my memory. Both were necessary, as I
imagine they are for all writers who are committed to remaining on the long
road of writing, wherever it may take them.
What’s
your favorite piece of writing advice?
Writing
begets more writing. Meaning grows on the page. And this, from William
Faulker’s Nobel speech: “. . . the human heart in conflict with itself which
alone can make good writing because only that is worth writing about . . . “
My
favorite writing advice is “write until something surprises you.” What
surprised you in the writing of this book?
Every
sentence I write is a surprise; I’m always amazed to witness words growing into
sentences and then paragraphs or stanzas and then, if I’m lucky and hang on
long enough, into whole poems or essays or stories or books. However successful
or flawed the final product might be, the process itself always feels
miraculous to me. Imagine: we writers have only the alphabet to work with, yet
so many possibilities arise! As for this particular book, what surprised me was
how organically related the essays actually were, once I discovered the threads
that connected them. Though the pieces vary in length, timeline, form, and
thematic emphasis, they all touch on what I imagine as the soundtrack—or
heartbeat—of my New York experience. I was delighted when early readers of the
manuscript heard this soundtrack. Their responses led me to the final title of
the book: In the Key of New York City.
Who
is your ideal reader?
In
some ways, my ideal reader is always the same for every book: a reader who is
willing to step into the pages with me and complete the transaction I’ve begun.
I covet readers who are emotionally smart, who can do the work that I believe
readers want to do: to make the text their own in any way they can. In the case
of this book, of course I hope to touch any reader who has some connection to
New York. But I hope that the book’s reach extends beyond that—to anyone who
has ever been uprooted or who has felt like a newcomer or outsider, who has
longed for connection, and who has been lucky enough to experience a place that
changed them in remarkable ways. Maybe that’s reaching too high, but that is my
aim. I am grateful to each and every reader. Readers make books possible.
Inquiring
foodies and hungry book clubs want to know: Any food/s associated with your
book? (Any recipes I might share?)
In
one of the essays, I write about offering my homemade cookies to New York apartment
neighbors—and the Con Ed guy—to entice them to become friends. Sadly, the
scheme didn’t work too well, but the cookies were excellent! I used the
traditional Toll House recipe for chocolate chip and the inside-lid recipe on
Quaker Oats for the oatmeal ones, which were the Con Ed guy’s favorite, by the
way.
[Editor’s
note: Here’s
the recipe for the chocolate chip cookies…a favorite in my house!]
READ
MORE ABOUT THIS AUTHOR: www.rebeccamcclanahanwriter.com
ORDER
THIS BOOK FOR YOUR OWN TBR STACK: https://redhenpress.org/products/in-the-key-of-new-york-city-by-rebecca-mcclanahan
READ
AN ESSAY FROM THIS BOOK, “’And We Shall be Changed’: New York City, September,
2001”:
https://kenyonreview.org/kr-online-issue/remembering-911-web-feature/selections/‘and-we-shall-be-changed’-new-york-city-september-2001/