I had not read any of Ann Beattie's work when I sat down to listen to her reading of Find and Replace for Narrative Magazine. I was not surprised to find I liked her work, and found myself wrapped up in ways Ann represented her interactions, not only with her mother, but also with the stranger she encountered.
Ann's mother and my mother having nothing in common really. My mother and I are close. If I was one of Ann's friends, I would be one of the ones she mentions visits their parents every weekend. Or one of the ones that calls every day. When I lived in Ireland, I FaceTimed my mother several times a week, for hours at a time - and that was when I was restraining myself. That's just how I function with my parents. We talk constantly and about everything. I don't have problems with telling them everything most days. Heck, my friends tell them just about everything going on in their life, even when it's borderline too private a thing to share. [you know who you are]. It's just the type of people we are.
Still, I found myself amused by Ann and her mother's relationship. Familiar, but strained, it was easy to see how their relationship had developed over the years even though the story was limited to only one major moment. It was very showing. I think perhaps it was Ann's delivery, but as a credit to her, her writing exudes her own voice, a brilliant, take-no-crap, sarcastic tone that permeates the entire piece. It would have made it difficult not to like her in that moment.
I think it's critical to maintain a real voice when writing. Sometimes I read my own work and wonder if someone might recognize my work without my name attached, that It would speak for itself and remind them of something of mine they'd read before, in a new exciting way, but still sounding like me. I am still looking for my voice I guess.
Ann's mother and my mother having nothing in common really. My mother and I are close. If I was one of Ann's friends, I would be one of the ones she mentions visits their parents every weekend. Or one of the ones that calls every day. When I lived in Ireland, I FaceTimed my mother several times a week, for hours at a time - and that was when I was restraining myself. That's just how I function with my parents. We talk constantly and about everything. I don't have problems with telling them everything most days. Heck, my friends tell them just about everything going on in their life, even when it's borderline too private a thing to share. [you know who you are]. It's just the type of people we are.
Still, I found myself amused by Ann and her mother's relationship. Familiar, but strained, it was easy to see how their relationship had developed over the years even though the story was limited to only one major moment. It was very showing. I think perhaps it was Ann's delivery, but as a credit to her, her writing exudes her own voice, a brilliant, take-no-crap, sarcastic tone that permeates the entire piece. It would have made it difficult not to like her in that moment.
I think it's critical to maintain a real voice when writing. Sometimes I read my own work and wonder if someone might recognize my work without my name attached, that It would speak for itself and remind them of something of mine they'd read before, in a new exciting way, but still sounding like me. I am still looking for my voice I guess.
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