Posts Tagged ‘events’

I’m almost recovered. This is what I kept saying to friends, only half jokingly, for at least two weeks after our ZUMIX Gala, which was sparkly and musical and made for a very late night. It was beautiful and fun and entirely worthwhile – and it took much longer to get “back to normal” than I expected.

It wasn’t only the loss of sleep that required some catch-up: there’s a huge swell of emotional and mental effort leading up to an event like that, and sometimes riding the downswell (both the release and the letdown) means you need to take a minute. I was also fighting a cold, for at least a solid week afterward; one of my colleagues likewise couldn’t stop coughing; and another one came down with COVID, which is still with us no matter how much we’d like to pretend otherwise. As we tallied donations and sent thank-you letters and boxed up leftover swag, I talked to several friends who all said the same thing: recovery times, in general, seem to be longer these days.

Part of it is the exhaustion; we’d all put in a lot of hours in the weeks before the Gala, and our bodies and minds needed some rest and space, even as we looked (and continue to look) ahead to the next major project and the daily work. But I think it’s also a lingering effect of the last few pandemic years.

All of us, whether we realize it or not, are still dealing with the compounded results of isolation, fear, mixed political and public-health messaging, and (for many of us) the aftermath of the virus itself. I think differently about social gatherings now, in the wake of 18+ months of barely attending any. I cherish the chances to dance, break bread and celebrate with friends, but I also notice that I need longer to recover – socially and/or physically – afterward. My running routine has had to change since I had the virus; I’ve struggled to build back my stamina and speed. I am noticing a renewed zeal to get back to normal (or pretend it’s already here) in various circles, in person and online. And – honestly – I don’t know if pre-pandemic “normal” is the thing to aim for.

Life is decidedly not the same as it was in 2020; we have vaccines and few restrictions, and I can move about the world in a way I couldn’t then. I’m also conscious that life is not the same as it was in 2019. I am not the same; none of us are, or should be. One way I’m trying to honor that difference is to give myself (and others) the recovery time that’s needed. And if – when – it’s longer? So be it. I’m learning to recognize, and make allowances for, that important fact.


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This past weekend, I spent a day at Boston Fan Expo – known popularly, if not officially, as Boston Comic-Con – with my guy. He’s a comic-book geek from way back, and he and his son have been going to this event together for more than a decade.

It was my first con event ever, and I decided – after a fun but seriously overstimulating day – that it was sort of like traveling to a foreign country.

Why? First of all, it took a little effort to get there: for me, one stop on the train and then a bike ride to the convention center. G made sure to give me the lay of the land (not quite a guidebook, but close) before we went inside. But there was a lot he didn’t know, even after years of doing this, and a lot I had to figure out for myself.

Once inside, we explored and wandered. The costumes, languages and locals I saw spanned the gamut from familiar to totally unknown. I’m fairly fluent in Harry Potter, for example, and I speak a bit of Star Wars and some Lord of the Rings. But I only know a little Marvel, and even less DC (except for Wonder Woman, of course), and I don’t speak anime (or horror) at all. It reminded me of being in Spain: I could decipher some of the main language, with patience. But several of the dialects, and other languages such as Catalan and Euskara, remain totally unfamiliar to me after multiple trips there.

The people-watching, as advertised, was excellent: one vendor had a live parrot on her shoulder, and another had gone full hobbit, with pointy ears and a green Elven cloak fastened with a leaf clasp. I saw so many tattoos and costumes whose meanings I couldn’t begin to guess at, and mostly I saw a ton of folks having fun, in a world they inhabit and love.

We made sure to hydrate and take breaks, and I came away with a few fun souvenirs, including a Gryffindor keychain. I loved chatting with the locals (i.e. a few vendors) and exploring a part of G’s world alongside him. But by the end – I have to say – I was very ready to go home. We picked up tacos from a favorite local spot, headed back to my house, cracked open a new cider, and crashed.

Have you been to a con or other event like this? Did it feel like a foreign country to you?

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Last week, I hopped a Green Line train after work to go hear my friend Louise Miller have a books-and-baking conversation with fellow author Vallery Lomas. (I met another friend there, and we sampled treats afterward, and I hugged Louise and convinced my friend to buy her lovely first novel.)

The weekend before that, I volunteered as an usher at my favorite local theatre company and saw the excellent play The Book of Will for free. (Bonus: the witch hazel was out in the Public Garden.) And the weekend before that, my guy and I took the commuter rail up to Beverly, just north of Boston, where we ate and shopped and got caught in a snow squall, and took a long, rambling walk along the frozen beach, watching the birds and the light.

After a year and a half where we mostly stayed in our own apartments (or at least in our own neighborhoods) and/or felt safe doing mostly outdoor activities, it’s felt good to open myself up a bit again. The joy of local adventures – besides their accessibility – is the fact that they add serious magic to the everyday.

Some version of this phenomenon happens to me every spring: after curling up inside during the colder months, I love trying a few new restaurants, going for walks, planning visits to museums and generally enjoying the milder weather. Spring adds a bit of zing to life. But this year, going on a local adventure feels extra exciting. Whether that’s trying a new-to-us brunch spot with my partner, walking down unfamiliar streets or immersing myself in music or theatre for an evening, it feels revitalizing and fun.

What local adventures are you having these days?

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I’m a longtime fan of Rachel Bertsche’s fun blog, MWF Seeking BFF, and have been eagerly anticipating her book by the same name. I was jazzed when I won an ARC through Goodreads, and immediately emailed my editor at Shelf Awareness begging to review it. “I read her blog and am so excited to read this book,” I wrote. “Is that a conflict of interest?” Marilyn responded, “No – that’s just interest!”

Spotting the book "in the wild"

So I read it, loved it and sent in my review (which appeared as my first starred review in Shelf Awareness!). And last week, Rachel came to Boston for the first leg of her book tour, and we met up for lunch. And I fell in friend-love.

Our conversation was like one long continuous sentence – topics crisscrossing and doubling back, both of us saying, “Oh! That makes me think of…” or “I thought of you when I saw…” several times. It felt more like a good gab with an old friend than a first meeting with someone I’d never seen before. (Which I suppose it was – we’ve tweeted and emailed for months.) I could have sat there and talked with her over Thai food all afternoon – but I had to get back to work, so I hugged her goodbye (I am a hugger, so I love it when my new friends are too).

That night, I headed to Brookline Booksmith to watch Rachel give her first reading ever. And judging by the packed house and the fact that they sold OUT of books, I’d say it was a huge success.

I’m kicking myself that we didn’t get a picture together – but we had a glorious lunch, and she signed my book, and then we met up with Lindsey the next morning for coffee before Rachel had to jet off to New York. The whole experience was just lovely – it’s such a treat to meet online friends in person, and discover that they’re just as delightful as you thought they were.

I’m posting my Shelf Awareness review of Rachel’s book below, and would urge you to buy it, if you’re looking for a fun, thoughtful read about friendship.*

Review: MWF Seeking BFF

When Rachel Bertsche moves to Chicago, she’s thrilled to finally live in the same city as her boyfriend. But since she left most of her friends behind in New York, she needs to find some local pals, stat.

Longing for a BFF to call for brunch or a pedicure, or a gossip partner to dissect the latest pop-culture news, Bertsche goes on 52 friend-dates – one per week for a year. She scours her existing network for potential friends-of-friends, then branches out to joining an improv class, forming a cooking club, and even going on a mortifying “date” with a “Rent-a-Friend.” As she sizes up potential BFFs, Bertsche also delves into research on friendship – from how a person’s number of friends affects her health to how our ultra-connected culture can propagate loneliness and isolation.

Throughout her quest, Bertsche’s self-deprecating humor shines through as she recounts her adventures and admits that meeting girls, juggling schedules and maintaining new relationships can be exhausting. (Comparisons with dating memoirs are inevitable here, and Bertsche wonders: why isn’t there a better vocabulary for making friends?)

By the end of her Year of Friending, Bertsche has a slew of new phone numbers, several promising relationships, and a renewed sense of confidence and warmth – because acting friendlier has actually made her a better friend. As they cheer Bertsche on in her quest, readers will appreciate the friends they have and even pick up useful – and entertaining – tips for finding new friends of their own.

*(I don’t get any compensation for urging you to buy Rachel’s book – I just think it’s great!)

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When Book Club Girl announced her read-along of the Maisie Dobbs series back in December, I was intrigued. Usually I’ve at least heard of popular series even if I haven’t read them, but somehow Maisie and her creator, Jacqueline Winspear, had escaped my notice. I found the first book in the series at the Brattle, took it as a sign and bought it – and well, I was hooked. You might say I’m “mad for Maisie.”

I’ve spent a good part of this winter following Maisie’s adventures around 1920s/1930s London, with frequent trips to Kent and occasional ventures to France and other locales. She’s a psychologist and private investigator, and she is smart, strong, independent and determined – one of a generation of women who survived the Great War and then built their own lives in new and unexpected ways.

The books are full of fascinating period detail, from clothes to accents to social mores, and the supporting cast of characters is rich and compelling. (I especially love Billy Beale, Maisie’s cheerful Cockney assistant; Frankie Dobbs, her steadfast, loving father; and Priscilla, her socialite college chum who has her own demons to fight.) As much historical fiction as mystery, these books are filling an important gap for me; I hadn’t read much fiction about World War I and its aftermath until lately. (Except Rilla of Ingleside, which has done more for my understanding of the Great War than any other book, fiction or nonfiction.)

Jacqueline Winspear came recently to the Harvard Book Store to read from the latest Maisie adventure, A Lesson in Secrets. I talked my sweet husband into coming straight from work on a Friday night to hear an author whose books he hasn’t read, and bless him, he agreed, and even enjoyed himself. As for me? I was in heaven.

Like any author worth her salt, Ms. Winspear didn’t give away the plot of her new book – fortunately for me, since I hadn’t yet read it. Instead, she talked about a few of the threads weaving through the whole series, including the legacy of the Great War in England, the shifting social mores of the time, a bit of family history (her grandparents bore scars, physical and otherwise, from the war), and her own interest in secrets and mysteries. And then, in her clear, pleasant English accent, she read us a brief passage from A Lesson in Secrets. I was spellbound. I wish I could have written down every word.

I did speak with her briefly afterward, feeling tongue-tied (as I always do when I meet authors I admire), but managing to tell her I love her work, and mention my time in Oxford, as she signed a couple of books for me and one for a friend. And I didn’t tell her this, but it’s true: next time she’s on a Maisie tour, I hope she comes back this way.

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