Some of the Places I've Written My Book

A nostalgic post, with lots of pictures

Hello friends!

As has been true so many times when I’ve sat down to write this newsletter this year, it feels strange to write about writing when the world is on fire. Sending lots of love and solidarity to the faculty and students protesting across the country right now.

My kids are on Spring Break for 12 days, so my lovely in-laws offered to take us on a little working holiday down the shore to Atlantic City. This time of year it’s quiet, the beaches are empty except for occasional dolphin sightings, and it’s perfect for strolling and thinking about the launch of a book that has taken the better part of the last decade of my life.

My goal while I’m here is to write the prelude and back cover copy, and it occurred to me that this is likely the last time I’ll ever work on this book while I’m traveling. So, here are a few memorable places my book and I have been, if you don’t mind indulging me in a little trip down memory lane.

7 Years of Writing in Interesting Spots

We don’t talk about the where of writing as much as we talk about the how and the why. Between moving across the country, fieldwork, working “vacations” like this one, and writing retreats, this little book has taken shape, slowly but surely, in dozens of places.

Most unique interview locale: The IKEA parking lot, Kansas City.

I had been trying to set up an interview with someone for ages who was busy organizing protests and running for office at the same time. She texted me while we were in IKEA telling me she had 30 minutes to talk between events, asking if I had time. I abandoned my husband with our two kids in the frozen meatball aisle, sprinted to the car, drove out of the parking garage to a place in the middle of a field where there was service, and boom! Had a great interview.

Best view: Our patio, Paxos, Greece.

We spend a month in Greece on a combination writing retreat/research trip (where we wrote a cool article about doing fieldwork with kids!)/ celebration of our tenth anniversary/ celebration of my mom’s birthday. It was magical, and I did a lot of writing staring at this view. I’ve been scheming how to get back to Paxos ever since.

Longest field work road trip: Lincoln—>Austin—>Aspen—>Idaho—>Montana.

In the summer of 2018, we left Lincoln to attend Families Belong Together protests in Austin. I’d been given an invitation to attend the Aspen Ideas Fest so we drove out to Colorado after that (I basically spent the entire time sipping weird juices and fan-girling over Rebecca Traister and Brittney Cooper, so, you know. Worth it.) Our plan after that was to unplug for a few weeks, but we heard about some interesting protests in Idaho so thought we’d swing by on our way to camping in Montana. Like one does. I remember being struck by the contrast between abject cruelty of separating families at the border, and the bizarre beauty of the western states, and hold these together in my mind.

Most portentous solo writing retreat Platte River, March 2020

In early March 2020, I was eight months pregnant, things in Lincoln hadn’t (quite) shut down yet, and I fled to a cabin on the Platte River to get some pre-baby (and, as it happens, pre-lockdown) writing done. It was foggy and freezing the whole time, and my kids sent a little dino and a car to keep me company as I wrote. Little did I know that this was the last time I’d be alone for a long, long time. (#pandemicparenting.)

Most unique writing partners: A tie between the stalwart horseshoe crab and the pretty peacock.

A few summers ago, we rented a beach house in Atlantic Highlands, and I wrote for a week while my husband wrangled the kids with his folks, and then my husband wrote for a week while I wrangled the kids with some friends. It was horseshoe crab mating season, and so I was often accompanied by one of these little guys while I was writing on the beach. One day I will publish an essay about how amazing horseshoe crabs are.

And this January, we held a writing retreat in the Texas Hill Country, and there were peacocks and peahens there! I would wake up, step outside, and drink coffee with my peacock friends, and then start writing.

Inspiring places, supportive faces

Don’t get me wrong, the bulk of my writing has been done at my desk, in coffee shops, in my head on long, frustrated walks around my neighborhood, and on my couch after the kids have gone to bed. And I have been privileged along the way to have access to grants and research money when I was a faculty member, to have a flexible schedule, to have an incredibly supportive partner and kids who are always up for anything.

But thinking about the book writing process in this way also shows me a little bit of what work-life balance can look like when it actually works well. Doing work that matters to you, in pretty places (and IKEA parking lots) surrounded by people who want your book to exist in the world.

Writing a book, like raising kids, happens alongside the rest of your life. And I have a sense that all of us, in one way or another, are doing work that is of the world. So figuring out ways to be in the world while we’re writing makes it feel more true. To that end, I’ve been thinking about this Joan Didion quote a lot lately:

I’m trying, Joan!

Alright friends, I only have so much nostalgia in me (maybe one more post) so I’ll be back next week with some ideas about how to plan for the summer.

Until then, stay safe, make good trouble, write all the things.

Kelly

Housekeeping

Do you need an editor, a writing coach, or a book writing workshop? Let’s chat! Reach out via email, or use this link to schedule a free 30-minute consultation. The summer and early fall are filling up, so now is a great time to get on my calendar. There is one seat left in the book writing workshop for May, and I’d love for you to fill it! Let’s get all the things written and into the world!