A special note for Florida readers: The JaxbyJax Literary Arts Festival is happening December 1 - 3 at the FSCJ Kent Campus. I’ll be reading on Saturday, December 2 (time TBD) and co-teaching a craft workshop with local memoirist Tricia Booker Sunday, December 3, noon - 3pm. Mayor Donna Deegan will read from her memoir Through Rose Colored Glasses: A Marathon from Fear to Love, and former JSO Sheriff Nat Glover will read from his new memoir Striving For Justice: A Black Sheriff in the Deep South. See you there!
What a delight to read more work by poet and essayist Ross Gay. These essays are best approached as a devotional of sorts, savored in slow, attentive reading sessions. Like his original Book of Delights, this one has so much depth, insight, and writing technique to digest. It’s composed in a wandering, light-hearted tone I’ve come to recognize as Gay’s voice on the page.
I love how he talks about masculinity with such awareness and tenderness, and the way he zeroes in on delights I didn’t know we shared. Case in point: the zone of public solitude a writer craves and the way the expected miracle of a sprouting seed surprises and thrills a gardener every time.
I couldn’t get enough of Gay’s musings on figs, purple sweet potatoes, mulberries, and garlic, which paired well with his commentary on capitalism, cancel culture, and alienation machines (aka phones, tablets, etc.). Like many readers who’ve come before me, I found myself wanting to start my own book of delights.
Two More Memoirs on Mother and Human Nature
The Comfort of Crows: A Backyard Year, by Margaret Renkl
Reading books by nature writers is such a refreshing palate cleanser from the fast pace of current events and social media. I thoroughly enjoyed Renkl’s collection of observations and reflections on the wildlife on her residential plot of land.
Some of my favorite takeaways: the value of an untidy garden, the antidepressant properties of freshly turned soil, and the tragedy of life imperiled by green lawns for fashion’s sake. As Renkl notes, we can’t single-handedly change America or solve climate change, but we can plant a garden.
Renkl has been the custodian of her yard for decades, where she has provided a habitat for wildlife, raised her kids, and loved her spouse. The wisdom she’s gained in the process is brimming with meaning and value.
Mother, Nature, by Jedidiah Jenkins
Themes of travel, nature, and sexual identity drew me to this memoir, out today by Jedidiah Jenkins. Especially intriguing was the book’s central question: Do we have to cut our loved ones off when they disagree with something utterly foundational to our values and existence?
Jenkins was raised by an evangelical Christian mom who walked across America with his father and went on to write a bestselling series about their adventure. In "Mother, Nature," mother and son set off on a road trip, retracing her steps and reminiscing about the past. As a gay man, Jenkins hopes that in addition to bonding with his mom, he’ll find out whether or not she would attend his wedding to a man, if and when that day comes.
Despite her backwards beliefs about sexuality, Jenkins’ mom comes alive on the page and is quite likable. I found myself alternately judging her as ignorant, then innocent, stubborn, and even sage in her simplicity. Still, it’s hard to overlook her unwillingness to budge on a matter so fundamental to her son’s identity. I would have thought, as Jenkins hopes, that her “concept of ‘homosexuality’ would be crushed by the specificity of a human she cares about.”
I admire Jenkins’ bravery in confronting his mom and staying in relationship through the awkwardness of her answer to his big question. His ability to hold multiple truths at once is something most of us could stand to do more often in this time of exaggerated binaries and divisiveness. As a whole, this memoir is a great reminder that there is no one or right way to come out and be out. Each person’s journey is incredibly personal and continuously evolving.
Memoirs with Melissa shares twice monthly reviews intended to expose readers to diverse authors and life experiences. I welcome and value every free subscriber. Paid subscriptions are an extra way to support my work in elevating the canon of human experience. Thank you!