Hibernation Season

Plus, a lotta reading recommendations for those who want to hibernate too.

Photo: Getty Images

Can I admit something? It’s been really hard for me to come back to the page, and this newsletter in particular. None of my words feel important or useful enough. Every time I start a new issue, I wonder: Is this the thing I want to declare to the world? Is this my statement on art, motherhood, culture? But of course, the point of this newsletter has never been to have all the answers. It’s about my ongoing curiosity and all the questions that arise in different seasons of life. Especially in seasons of uncertainty like this one.

So, despite my lack of a manifesto, I’m showing up here, writing on the threshold between the clamorous outside world and the quiet, weird, curious cave of my inner life. 

I’ve heard this can happen in the flurry of launching a book. There are interviews and reviews and all the things that occur on the Outside, interactions that demand a certain level of performance. Someone asks a question about your book; you’re called to provide an answer that’s pithy and insightful and relatable. You want to summarize things neatly when sometimes the book (and your process) is anything but. I’ve wholeheartedly loved having the chance to connect with readers (what a gift and delight). I hope to do much more of it! And yet, for an introvert like me, there’ll always be unease in the spotlight. 

But inside the cave, where things are quiet and dark and nothing is expected of me, that’s where inspiration blossoms. There, I don’t have to have any answers. I can wonder and play and try to find ways to say the unsayable. I can be messy. In the cave, I feel like a bear shifting in its sleep, dreaming without audience. More and more these days, I can sense myself withdrawing into the cave, gently shutting the door on the Outside while I breathe that sigh of relief. I think: Oh. There I am. We all sometimes need that space to hibernate. 

Part of this beautiful withdrawal has been my re-immersion into reading. With my expanding mental bandwidth and renewed focus, I’m reaching for books the way I had been reaching for my phone to check social media and email. Reading a book, too, can feel like gently shutting the door.

Here are some I’ve been reading and loving lately:

• Tom Lake by Ann Patchett: I think many are reading this one (it’s also a Reese’s Book Club pick!), and it absolutely lives up to the hype. During the pandemic, a woman gathers with her three daughters in a Michigan cherry orchard to tell them about the time she dated a famous movie star during summer stock theater. Slow, tender, and lovely. 

• The Leftover Woman by Jean Kwok: This gripping suspense tale follows two women who make life-and-death decisions to protect themselves and their children. Kwok describes the heartbreak and alienation of motherhood so gorgeously, while also delivering a fast-paced story that keeps you turning pages. (Out in October, but available for preorder.)

• The Most Fun We Ever Had by Claire Lombardo: Although this novel is over 500 pages long, I didn’t ever feel like it was a slog. On the contrary, I couldn’t wait to keep reading. Here, this family saga explores the spaces between sisters as well as the devastating secrets that reverberate across generations. With a cast of vibrant, flawed characters and a throughline of a loving marriage (a rarity in literature), this novel delivers an immersive look at a family that manages to hold together despite the many betrayals of the past. 

• The Mythmakers by Keziah Weir: When a young journalist finds herself at the center of a recently deceased writer’s short story, she dives deep to investigate the ways their lives intersected in the past. What she finds is a different story entirely, one with loads of heart and gorgeous insights about art and authorship. This is a really special book that kept surprising me.

• Do Tell by Lindsay Lynch: 1930s columnist Edie O’Dare (what a name!) tackles the tight-lipped, insider culture of Old Hollywood to upend the secrets that the leading actors (and production companies) don’t want to make headlines. Edie’s chutzpah is irresistible and the setting is wonderfully glamorous.

• How Not to Drown in a Glass of Water by Angie Cruz: Recommended by the great Mira Jacob, this short novel is all voice and heart. Written as a series of interview transcripts between Cara and her job placement officer, this novel explores one woman’s complicated and engrossing life as an immigrant mother battling forces of class, gentrification, and family estrangement. I wish I could read it for the first time again.

• The Wishing Game by Meg Shaffer: Hailed as Willy Wonka for adults, this warm-hearted novel is just perfect for fall (and hibernating). On the mysterious Clock Island, a reclusive bestselling author comes out of his self-imposed publishing exile to announce a new manuscript he’ll be gifting to one lucky winner. What follows is a whirlwind that takes every contestant to unexpected places. Part riddle book, part romance, and part adventure story, this novel will bring out the kid in you.

• Ink Blood Sister Scribe by Emma Törzs: My husband and I both devoured this stylish fantasy novel about a library of magical books guarded by an estranged family with powers of their own. The writing is phenomenal and the characters are so compelling. I loved watching the strands of the narrative come together into a satisfying story that takes readers all over the world. I can’t wait for someone to make this into a movie.

• The Secret Book of Flora Lea by Patti Callahan Henry: One of my favorite books of the year. In the 1950s, Hazel discovers a children’s book in the storeroom of the bookstore where she works. The surprising part? The story is hers, one she made up to entertain her sister Flora amidst the forced evacuations of WWII. Flora was the only one who’d ever heard Hazel’s story, but she disappeared in a tragic accident twenty years ago. A confused Hazel follows the trail of this mysterious book back to the past—and back to the versions of herself she’d long left behind. 

What’s this season of your life like? Are you hibernating or relishing the Outside?