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The Wrong Way to Save Your Life: Essays
“Stielstra is a masterful essayist.” —Roxane Gay, author of Bad Feminist and Hunger From an important new writer comes this powerful collection of personal essays on fear, creativity, art, faith, academia, the Internet, and justice. In this poignant and inciting collection of literary essays, Megan Stielstra tells stories to ward off fears both personal and universal as she grapples toward a better way to live. In her titular piece “The Wrong Way To Save Your Life,” she answers the question of what has value in our lives—a question no longer rhetorical when the apartment above her family’s goes up in flames. “Here is My Heart” sheds light on Megan’s close relationship with her father, whose continued insistence on climbing mountains despite a series of heart attacks leads the author to dissect deer hearts in a poetic attempt to interrogate her own feelings about mortality. Whether she's imagining the implications of open-carry laws on college campuses, recounting the story of going underwater on the mortgage of her first home, or revealing the unexpected pains and joys of marriage and motherhood, Stielstra's work informs, impels, enlightens, and embraces us all. The result is something beautiful—this story, her courage, and, potentially, our own. Intellectually fierce and viscerally intimate, Megan Stielstra's voice is witty, wise, warm, and above all, achingly human.
304 pages, Paperback
First published August 1, 2017
107 people are currently reading
4503 people want to read
About the author
Megan Stielstra
9 books129 followersMegan Stielstra is the author of the essay collection Once I Was Cool. Her work is included in The Best American Essays 2013, Poets & Writers, The Rumpus, PANK, Other Voices, f Magazine, Make Magazine, Joyland, Pindeldyboz, Swink, and elsewhere, and her story collection, Everyone Remain Calm, was a Chicago Tribune Favorite of 2011. She’s the Literary Director of the critically-acclaimed 2nd Story storytelling series and has told stories for all sorts of theaters, festivals, and bars including the Goodman, Steppenwolf, Museum of Contemporary Art, Neo-Futurarium, Chicago Public Radio, and regularly for The Paper Machete live news magazine at The Green Mill. Currently, she teaches writing and performance at Columbia College Chicago and serves as the Associate Director of The Center For Innovation in Teaching Excellence. She also teaches creative nonfiction at Northwestern University and fiction at the University of Chicago, and is a 3Arts Teaching Artist Award Finalist for her work with 2nd Story, helping people of all ages get their stories on the page.
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December 6, 2021
"I’ve always engaged with the heart as a metaphor: a desire, a thing to survive, to heal from or shoot for. Now I know there’s nothing more real. We walk through the world at its leisure. We’re here at its mercy and with its blessing. At some point, we have to ask ourselves how we want to live.”
I picked up this book of essays completely on a whim. In all honesty, it should have been lost forever under the weight of several hundred books on my list. I may have read a review or two several years ago, but haven’t seen it since - until a few days ago when I decided to peruse my virtual essay bookshelf. Seriously, the title alone is what made me head to Libby with my fingers crossed that my library would have a copy. And they did! And what a book! Megan Stielstra, why have I not heard your name before?!! I adore you. Really, I do! This collection of essays made me laugh and cry, and most importantly, gave me some much needed courage. Megan is the kind of person we all need living next door - or at least a quick phone call away.
“There are so many reasons not to try. They all start with I’m scared.”
Megan writes frankly about fear, mistakes, and our ability and responsibility to continuously learn in order to better ourselves and our world. There’s nothing pretentious or judgmental in her observations. She’s that friend that can always make you laugh, telling it like it is. She’s constantly on the search for truth and meaning, and is more than willing to listen to all opinions. She is refreshingly open-minded. Not a trait one comes across very often these days. She doesn’t apologize for not understanding; rather, she asks what she can do to improve and takes action.
“No matter how set in our ways, we still have much to learn. We can listen. We can try. That is possible… You don’t get to hate something just because you don’t understand it.”
Creativity, the struggle to make a living as an artist, gun control, relationships and finding love, sex, parental divorce, motherhood, and post-partum depression are all topics she shares with candor. Some of her essays are rather brief, summing up in a few words some idea she’s had. I could imagine her freezing in the middle of the produce aisle with some brilliant thought, and scrambling to write it down in some little journal so she could later share it with us. Even her longer pieces never meander. Every bit is clear and incisive. As usual, I found myself highlighting the hell out of this collection. Here are a few of my favorites that I just can’t wait for you to find out for yourself (especially if you refuse to take my advice and read this book!!)
“We should all be in awe of teenagers, of youth, youth artists in particular. Holy hell, the emotion! The love and the anger and the energy, all so huge, enough force to power a city. I think back to myself then, and I look at the young writers I work with now, and am blown away by their courage. It scares people, I think. We try to contain it. We teach them to hold back. To be 'appropriate.' To be 'respectable.' I wonder: What might happen if we got out of their way? What might happen if we actually listened?”
"People are dying. That man should not have had eleven guns. That man should not have had a gun. His right to a gun is not greater than our right to walk through this world, alive and living."
"Privilege isn’t blame or shame or fear. It’s responsibility."
“So much of what’s sold to women is that motherhood is our purpose as opposed to our choice, that we have to have children and put the other parts of our selves at best second, and at worst away for good. I’m here to join the chorus of fuck that noise. If you want to be a mom, be a mom. Be a mom and a working artist and whatever the hell else you want and yes, you will make work after the baby comes and yes, it will be hard and yes, you will be tired but more than that, a thousand times more, it will be amazing and life changing in ways I’m only beginning to understand. And if you don’t want to have a kid, if you choose not to go that way, then I’m standing behind you, too, cheering my face off because what has meaning in this life is living it full and true.”
“Sometimes I wonder how the world would be different if we shared resources and opportunities the way our kindergarten teachers made us share crayons.”
I'm smacking my hand and stopping here! Though, there’s lots more I really want to include. I felt so passionate about Megan and everything she had to say. I was frequently reading bits of this aloud to anyone that would listen! Her writing is inspiring and funny and heartfelt. She doesn’t know it, but she’s a lifesaver! She just might have given me the push I need to stop whining and start acting! Maybe she can do the same for you someday.
“I hope you have a person like that in your life. One who reminds you to choose joy.”
I picked up this book of essays completely on a whim. In all honesty, it should have been lost forever under the weight of several hundred books on my list. I may have read a review or two several years ago, but haven’t seen it since - until a few days ago when I decided to peruse my virtual essay bookshelf. Seriously, the title alone is what made me head to Libby with my fingers crossed that my library would have a copy. And they did! And what a book! Megan Stielstra, why have I not heard your name before?!! I adore you. Really, I do! This collection of essays made me laugh and cry, and most importantly, gave me some much needed courage. Megan is the kind of person we all need living next door - or at least a quick phone call away.
“There are so many reasons not to try. They all start with I’m scared.”
Megan writes frankly about fear, mistakes, and our ability and responsibility to continuously learn in order to better ourselves and our world. There’s nothing pretentious or judgmental in her observations. She’s that friend that can always make you laugh, telling it like it is. She’s constantly on the search for truth and meaning, and is more than willing to listen to all opinions. She is refreshingly open-minded. Not a trait one comes across very often these days. She doesn’t apologize for not understanding; rather, she asks what she can do to improve and takes action.
“No matter how set in our ways, we still have much to learn. We can listen. We can try. That is possible… You don’t get to hate something just because you don’t understand it.”
Creativity, the struggle to make a living as an artist, gun control, relationships and finding love, sex, parental divorce, motherhood, and post-partum depression are all topics she shares with candor. Some of her essays are rather brief, summing up in a few words some idea she’s had. I could imagine her freezing in the middle of the produce aisle with some brilliant thought, and scrambling to write it down in some little journal so she could later share it with us. Even her longer pieces never meander. Every bit is clear and incisive. As usual, I found myself highlighting the hell out of this collection. Here are a few of my favorites that I just can’t wait for you to find out for yourself (especially if you refuse to take my advice and read this book!!)
“We should all be in awe of teenagers, of youth, youth artists in particular. Holy hell, the emotion! The love and the anger and the energy, all so huge, enough force to power a city. I think back to myself then, and I look at the young writers I work with now, and am blown away by their courage. It scares people, I think. We try to contain it. We teach them to hold back. To be 'appropriate.' To be 'respectable.' I wonder: What might happen if we got out of their way? What might happen if we actually listened?”
"People are dying. That man should not have had eleven guns. That man should not have had a gun. His right to a gun is not greater than our right to walk through this world, alive and living."
"Privilege isn’t blame or shame or fear. It’s responsibility."
“So much of what’s sold to women is that motherhood is our purpose as opposed to our choice, that we have to have children and put the other parts of our selves at best second, and at worst away for good. I’m here to join the chorus of fuck that noise. If you want to be a mom, be a mom. Be a mom and a working artist and whatever the hell else you want and yes, you will make work after the baby comes and yes, it will be hard and yes, you will be tired but more than that, a thousand times more, it will be amazing and life changing in ways I’m only beginning to understand. And if you don’t want to have a kid, if you choose not to go that way, then I’m standing behind you, too, cheering my face off because what has meaning in this life is living it full and true.”
“Sometimes I wonder how the world would be different if we shared resources and opportunities the way our kindergarten teachers made us share crayons.”
I'm smacking my hand and stopping here! Though, there’s lots more I really want to include. I felt so passionate about Megan and everything she had to say. I was frequently reading bits of this aloud to anyone that would listen! Her writing is inspiring and funny and heartfelt. She doesn’t know it, but she’s a lifesaver! She just might have given me the push I need to stop whining and start acting! Maybe she can do the same for you someday.
“I hope you have a person like that in your life. One who reminds you to choose joy.”
January 16, 2018
This book snuck up on me: I was enjoying it and then suddenly I was loving it. I am so very glad that this was the 100th book I finished this year.
Megan Stielstra writes about a variety of topics: academia, feminism, her pregancy and marriage, her struggle with post-partum depression, the story of her mortgage drowning her, gun control, and many more things. The essays are loosely structured around themes of fear but are so much more than that. It is fearless and honest and stylistically wonderful. It is unflinching - but also ultimately hopeful. I love how she holds herself accountable and how she wants to make the world a better place, one action at a time. This is needed; I needed to hear this.
I love the way Megan Stielstra's language flows and how her essays are structured, both the individual pieces and the collection as a whole. Her sentences pack such a punch that I had to reread lengthy passages just to be sure I appreciate them as they should be appreciated (and then she says this: "I am not a good enough writer yet to explain what that did to my heart." - if she thinks there is room for improvement then I cannot wait to read what she does next. It will blow my mind.).
I am having difficulties explaining my love for this book, so let me end by saying this: I had to rewrite my "Favourite Books of the Year"-post for this. It made me cry, it made me smile, I could not stop thinking about this (and thus missed sleep), and I have already bought Megan Stielstra's other essay collection. Go and read this.
You can find this review and other things on my blog.
Megan Stielstra writes about a variety of topics: academia, feminism, her pregancy and marriage, her struggle with post-partum depression, the story of her mortgage drowning her, gun control, and many more things. The essays are loosely structured around themes of fear but are so much more than that. It is fearless and honest and stylistically wonderful. It is unflinching - but also ultimately hopeful. I love how she holds herself accountable and how she wants to make the world a better place, one action at a time. This is needed; I needed to hear this.
I love the way Megan Stielstra's language flows and how her essays are structured, both the individual pieces and the collection as a whole. Her sentences pack such a punch that I had to reread lengthy passages just to be sure I appreciate them as they should be appreciated (and then she says this: "I am not a good enough writer yet to explain what that did to my heart." - if she thinks there is room for improvement then I cannot wait to read what she does next. It will blow my mind.).
I am having difficulties explaining my love for this book, so let me end by saying this: I had to rewrite my "Favourite Books of the Year"-post for this. It made me cry, it made me smile, I could not stop thinking about this (and thus missed sleep), and I have already bought Megan Stielstra's other essay collection. Go and read this.
You can find this review and other things on my blog.
March 29, 2023
This is a collection of essays that reads like an autobiography. A journey composed of snapshots through the life of this author, threading a path that explores identity, gender and the ups and downs of the creative process while enhancing the power of art and the ripple-effect that a small gesture of kindness can have on those we encounter in the way. Family and strangers alike.
Megan Stielstra speaks from her own experience as a teacher, writer and mother. Her voice is raw, literary, but never pedantic, and the pace of her prose has a sense of continuity that makes the book extremely readable. She is highly critical of politics, the American values, the consequences of a morally questionable economy, and the hypocritical justice of a society where the color of one’s skin alters the meaning of questions, and consequently, their possible answers.
Fear is a central issue in Stielstra’s essays. Fear of not writing well enough. Fear of offending her audience with her petty quandaries. Fear of falling in love. Of having a baby. Of cancer. Of losing her father. I confess I felt comfortable with her line of thought and found her openness and sincerity refreshing and relatable. I found myself turning pages and smiling to myself in self-recognition.
Of course, there is no magical trick to fight off fear, no right way to save one’s life, but Megan finds her own mechanism to soothe the nagging presence of negative thoughts. Kindness. As she literally puts in one of her essays:
“Sometimes kindness means making it right.
Sometimes kindness means showing up.
Sometimes it’s trying.
We have to try.”
I don’t believe in guardian angels and I think Megan doesn’t either, but my goodness, I dare say she became mine for a while. And how good did it feel; to have the sense of being heard, seen and understood. To feel sheltered. To share.
Thank you, Megan, for your kindness.
Megan Stielstra speaks from her own experience as a teacher, writer and mother. Her voice is raw, literary, but never pedantic, and the pace of her prose has a sense of continuity that makes the book extremely readable. She is highly critical of politics, the American values, the consequences of a morally questionable economy, and the hypocritical justice of a society where the color of one’s skin alters the meaning of questions, and consequently, their possible answers.
Fear is a central issue in Stielstra’s essays. Fear of not writing well enough. Fear of offending her audience with her petty quandaries. Fear of falling in love. Of having a baby. Of cancer. Of losing her father. I confess I felt comfortable with her line of thought and found her openness and sincerity refreshing and relatable. I found myself turning pages and smiling to myself in self-recognition.
Of course, there is no magical trick to fight off fear, no right way to save one’s life, but Megan finds her own mechanism to soothe the nagging presence of negative thoughts. Kindness. As she literally puts in one of her essays:
“Sometimes kindness means making it right.
Sometimes kindness means showing up.
Sometimes it’s trying.
We have to try.”
I don’t believe in guardian angels and I think Megan doesn’t either, but my goodness, I dare say she became mine for a while. And how good did it feel; to have the sense of being heard, seen and understood. To feel sheltered. To share.
Thank you, Megan, for your kindness.
May 1, 2023
How can a collection of personal essays with the central theme of fear make me laugh out loud, cry, examine facets of my life, break my heart, and put it back together? Somehow Megan Stielstra achieves this feat in her book The Wrong Way to Save Your Life.
Her opening essay concludes "If we're going to make it, we have to look at the fear. We have to get into it. Throw it against the wall, stand back and take a good close look. It's ugly: heavy, dark, and centuries in the making. You might want to move on, to turn it off, watch something else, but wait--look again. Look closer. How was it made? When was it made? What was happening when it was made? What are you going to do about it? And when are you going to start?"
Her collection turns into a memoir of sorts, though don't look for chronology here. Despite the frequent jumps, she somehow makes it work; and I can follow along. Some of the topics she explores are her parents' divorce, gun violence, toxic masculinity, post-partum depression, motherhood, her father's heart condition, relationships, and teaching.
Stielstra's writing sparkles as she tackles heavy subjects with wit, passion, and attention.
When concerned about Campus Carry legislation she tells us
"At the University of Texas at Austin, students are fighting their recently enacted Campus Carry legislation with dildos. . . . The short version is this: dildos are considered "obscene" and prohibited from campus so students are tying them to their backpacks by the dozens and showing up en-masse at what student organizer Jessica Jin calls -- wait for it, strap ins. . . . It's always been easy to buy or sell a gun in Texas, but up until 2008? You couldn't buy or sell a dildo. And while there are no limits to the number of guns one may own, up until 2003 it was a felony to own more than six dildos."
Telling part of the ongoing saga of her father's heart issues:
"I pictured my dad on Barometer Mountain on Kodiak, its two-thousand-some elevation gain spread with wildflowers and ridiculously amazing views. He's wearing camo overalls, 7mm rifle at the ready, eye on something four-legged, almost has it, almost there, and then--a sort of tingle, like firefly wings on the inside of your skin, running up his arms, down across his chest, circling around his heart like a washcloth in a fist, squeezing tighter, tighter, body locked, and all you can see is sky. Look up: the ceiling is all clouds. So white. So close. The inside of your skin.
[Uncle] Chuck and my brother, Thomas, were there to help. The clinic in Glennallen sent him by medevac to the hospital in Anchorage.
Again.
For surgery.
Again."
Writing about a good friend who has helped her through her post-partum depression and many fears:
"Sarah is goddamn fucking sunshine. Weaponized optimism. You'll be all: 'I had a shitty day.' And she'll say, 'Oh, friend, that's terrible. Put down your things and we'll have a quick dance.' 'Sarah,' you'll say, 'we're in a parking lot.' Or: 'Sarah, it's raining.' Or: 'Sarah, there's no music,' and she will give you a look. You'll drop your stuff. You'll take off your shoes. You'll dance your face off to the sound of water hitting the pavement and yo know what? It's glorious.
I hope you have a person like that in your life.
One who reminds you to choose joy."
Stielstra's essays are brilliantly written, personal, and messy. Read them. What are you afraid of?
Thank you to my GR friends Candi and Justin who pointed me toward this book.
Her opening essay concludes "If we're going to make it, we have to look at the fear. We have to get into it. Throw it against the wall, stand back and take a good close look. It's ugly: heavy, dark, and centuries in the making. You might want to move on, to turn it off, watch something else, but wait--look again. Look closer. How was it made? When was it made? What was happening when it was made? What are you going to do about it? And when are you going to start?"
Her collection turns into a memoir of sorts, though don't look for chronology here. Despite the frequent jumps, she somehow makes it work; and I can follow along. Some of the topics she explores are her parents' divorce, gun violence, toxic masculinity, post-partum depression, motherhood, her father's heart condition, relationships, and teaching.
Stielstra's writing sparkles as she tackles heavy subjects with wit, passion, and attention.
When concerned about Campus Carry legislation she tells us
"At the University of Texas at Austin, students are fighting their recently enacted Campus Carry legislation with dildos. . . . The short version is this: dildos are considered "obscene" and prohibited from campus so students are tying them to their backpacks by the dozens and showing up en-masse at what student organizer Jessica Jin calls -- wait for it, strap ins. . . . It's always been easy to buy or sell a gun in Texas, but up until 2008? You couldn't buy or sell a dildo. And while there are no limits to the number of guns one may own, up until 2003 it was a felony to own more than six dildos."
Telling part of the ongoing saga of her father's heart issues:
"I pictured my dad on Barometer Mountain on Kodiak, its two-thousand-some elevation gain spread with wildflowers and ridiculously amazing views. He's wearing camo overalls, 7mm rifle at the ready, eye on something four-legged, almost has it, almost there, and then--a sort of tingle, like firefly wings on the inside of your skin, running up his arms, down across his chest, circling around his heart like a washcloth in a fist, squeezing tighter, tighter, body locked, and all you can see is sky. Look up: the ceiling is all clouds. So white. So close. The inside of your skin.
[Uncle] Chuck and my brother, Thomas, were there to help. The clinic in Glennallen sent him by medevac to the hospital in Anchorage.
Again.
For surgery.
Again."
Writing about a good friend who has helped her through her post-partum depression and many fears:
"Sarah is goddamn fucking sunshine. Weaponized optimism. You'll be all: 'I had a shitty day.' And she'll say, 'Oh, friend, that's terrible. Put down your things and we'll have a quick dance.' 'Sarah,' you'll say, 'we're in a parking lot.' Or: 'Sarah, it's raining.' Or: 'Sarah, there's no music,' and she will give you a look. You'll drop your stuff. You'll take off your shoes. You'll dance your face off to the sound of water hitting the pavement and yo know what? It's glorious.
I hope you have a person like that in your life.
One who reminds you to choose joy."
Stielstra's essays are brilliantly written, personal, and messy. Read them. What are you afraid of?
Thank you to my GR friends Candi and Justin who pointed me toward this book.
May 1, 2023
I LOVE these essays ….
So….
Forgive me ….
I have written this review more for myself ( happy to share - always),
but I’m too lazy at the moment - tired - to write a full review about each of these essays ….
Instead ….
I included several excerpts that speak to me.
I hope they speak to others.
I look forward to reading what every person who wrote a review had to say.
“The Wrong Way To Save Your Life” was a grand surprised!!!
It ‘is’ life! It’s me. It’s you! It’s us! It’s our world - our humanity! It has ‘heart’!!!!
I hope more people read these essays. They certainly lit my fire. I suspect they might sparkle quite positively for everyone I know!!!
Here are the excerpts(and a few of my words inserted). I’ve included.
“Exams were coming up in other classes, and most of us had jobs, often more than one, to cover the rent intuition and unpaid internships and maybe food? Also: the pressures that come with future plans and familial expectations and what am I doing with my life? Also: student loans in a shitty economy and continuing job loss. Also: social lives, the ebb and flow of love and loss. Also: quiet individual mountains we were each trying to climb: sickness and sick parents, and single parenthood, violence and healing, addiction and recovery, and the daily instances of sexism and racism or homophobia so prevalent and relentless it’s a wonder we haven’t set the walls on fire”.
“Years before the world cracked open. Years before we all search Google a hundred times a day, I took my questions to the library”.
I got nostalgic for my own pleasure memories of reading “Franny and Zooey”….. several times when I was in High School.
“We should all be in awe of teenagers, of youth, artists in particular. Holy hell, the emotion! The love and the anger and the energy, all so huge, enough force to power a city”.
Megan was sitting in a bar, drinking, crying, and drunk. Mascara all over her face everywhere.
One of her college students walks in. The poor guy didn’t know what to say.
“But you’re supposed to have your shit together!”
To him, I was only his teacher: four hours, once a week, knowledgeable, professional, shit together. And that’s true. I am that person. In classrooms, conferences, festivals, meetings, retreats, workshops, presentations, performances. But there are other parts of me, then, and still, that are equally trip. I want to sit on the couch and watch ‘Orphan Black’ and not think about anything. I want to sit with my husband and a bottle of wine and not have to be ‘on’.
“No, I don’t want to read your manuscript. No, you can’t pick my brain over coffee. I don’t have time for coffee. I shouldn’t drink this much coffee, I shouldn’t eat this bagel, I want this fucking bagel, fuck you, bagel, fuck you, carbs, fuck you, thyroid. I say fuck a lot. I say the wrong thing. I say the right thing the wrong way. I don’t want to say anything at all. I’m tired. I’m tired. I’m tired”.
My last excerpt:
“How do you write about depression in a way that’s not depressing?”
Answer:
“Read these essays”!
Megan Stielstra is my new heroine!!!
She’s FABULOUS!!!!
I want to read everything she writes.
P.S. it’s writing like Stielstra that gives me energy. Feeds me power!
Her writing is so refreshing!
A terrific antidote, for me, who is a little burned out from reading stories that sound like too many other books I’ve read.
So….
Forgive me ….
I have written this review more for myself ( happy to share - always),
but I’m too lazy at the moment - tired - to write a full review about each of these essays ….
Instead ….
I included several excerpts that speak to me.
I hope they speak to others.
I look forward to reading what every person who wrote a review had to say.
“The Wrong Way To Save Your Life” was a grand surprised!!!
It ‘is’ life! It’s me. It’s you! It’s us! It’s our world - our humanity! It has ‘heart’!!!!
I hope more people read these essays. They certainly lit my fire. I suspect they might sparkle quite positively for everyone I know!!!
Here are the excerpts(and a few of my words inserted). I’ve included.
“Exams were coming up in other classes, and most of us had jobs, often more than one, to cover the rent intuition and unpaid internships and maybe food? Also: the pressures that come with future plans and familial expectations and what am I doing with my life? Also: student loans in a shitty economy and continuing job loss. Also: social lives, the ebb and flow of love and loss. Also: quiet individual mountains we were each trying to climb: sickness and sick parents, and single parenthood, violence and healing, addiction and recovery, and the daily instances of sexism and racism or homophobia so prevalent and relentless it’s a wonder we haven’t set the walls on fire”.
“Years before the world cracked open. Years before we all search Google a hundred times a day, I took my questions to the library”.
I got nostalgic for my own pleasure memories of reading “Franny and Zooey”….. several times when I was in High School.
“We should all be in awe of teenagers, of youth, artists in particular. Holy hell, the emotion! The love and the anger and the energy, all so huge, enough force to power a city”.
Megan was sitting in a bar, drinking, crying, and drunk. Mascara all over her face everywhere.
One of her college students walks in. The poor guy didn’t know what to say.
“But you’re supposed to have your shit together!”
To him, I was only his teacher: four hours, once a week, knowledgeable, professional, shit together. And that’s true. I am that person. In classrooms, conferences, festivals, meetings, retreats, workshops, presentations, performances. But there are other parts of me, then, and still, that are equally trip. I want to sit on the couch and watch ‘Orphan Black’ and not think about anything. I want to sit with my husband and a bottle of wine and not have to be ‘on’.
“No, I don’t want to read your manuscript. No, you can’t pick my brain over coffee. I don’t have time for coffee. I shouldn’t drink this much coffee, I shouldn’t eat this bagel, I want this fucking bagel, fuck you, bagel, fuck you, carbs, fuck you, thyroid. I say fuck a lot. I say the wrong thing. I say the right thing the wrong way. I don’t want to say anything at all. I’m tired. I’m tired. I’m tired”.
My last excerpt:
“How do you write about depression in a way that’s not depressing?”
Answer:
“Read these essays”!
Megan Stielstra is my new heroine!!!
She’s FABULOUS!!!!
I want to read everything she writes.
P.S. it’s writing like Stielstra that gives me energy. Feeds me power!
Her writing is so refreshing!
A terrific antidote, for me, who is a little burned out from reading stories that sound like too many other books I’ve read.
December 22, 2021
The perfect parts of this book, which were many, were so great that the imperfect parts of the book really stood out, which is why I didn't award this a five-star review. This book covers so much, and I admit right now that my review does not do the book justice. Still,
* * * * *
I have never included trigger warnings in my reviews because, let's face it, being triggered is one of the things I actually look forward to while reading. (My privileged status as a fairly sizeable and square-looking white guy is not lost on me.) But since the audience for this book and people who love animals may have considerable overlap, be forewarned that there's quite a few little birds and bunnies and bambis being blown away by hunters, particularly in the first half of the book.
* * * * *
The craft of writing can be difficult to analyze, but when somebody has the gift, it leaps off the page, as these essays did. In this case, the secret was quite obviously paying a lot of attention to, well, the craft of writing. Much of the book sounds like an evening out drinking with your best friend, but there is not a misspelled word, a missing comma, an awkward sentence to be found anywhere in this lengthy collection. Writing well and gaining a reader's attention is hard, and unforced errors can be fatal. More than that, though, these pages are overspilling with heart and fine sentiments, and even religion. This is, I believe, the second time I have ever felt an accurate representation of my feelings about religion showing up on the page. The first was Thomas Merton, and now this:
And she said, "Same thing."
The story would have been weaker if she had written,
"Same thing," she said.
See what I mean?
* * * * *
Not only is she a PJ Harvey person, but she's also a dog person.
An excellent review from Candi led me here. Thank you my good-taste friend!
I walked down the hall in my dorm and heard a guttural, wailing sort of scream-singing with just a bass beneath it. I stood there, listening, finally knocking on the door and asking what the hell is that. The girl who lived there showed me the album cover: PJ Harvey topless in black and white and flipping her wet hair. The next day, I went to the Virgin Megastore and bought the CD, eventually scratching it and going back for another copy. And another. Another.Back in my mate-hunting days, whenever I was granted access to a woman's apartment, I made a beeline for her music collection as quickly as I could while being polite, and many potential romances went up in flames right then and there. But Megan Stielstra and I? Tight.
* * * * *
I have never included trigger warnings in my reviews because, let's face it, being triggered is one of the things I actually look forward to while reading. (My privileged status as a fairly sizeable and square-looking white guy is not lost on me.) But since the audience for this book and people who love animals may have considerable overlap, be forewarned that there's quite a few little birds and bunnies and bambis being blown away by hunters, particularly in the first half of the book.
* * * * *
The craft of writing can be difficult to analyze, but when somebody has the gift, it leaps off the page, as these essays did. In this case, the secret was quite obviously paying a lot of attention to, well, the craft of writing. Much of the book sounds like an evening out drinking with your best friend, but there is not a misspelled word, a missing comma, an awkward sentence to be found anywhere in this lengthy collection. Writing well and gaining a reader's attention is hard, and unforced errors can be fatal. More than that, though, these pages are overspilling with heart and fine sentiments, and even religion. This is, I believe, the second time I have ever felt an accurate representation of my feelings about religion showing up on the page. The first was Thomas Merton, and now this:
Recently I asked a friend, a woman very involved with her church, why it meant so much to her. She talked about the importance of community, of service, of giving back to this wild, beautiful world. I identified fiercely: What she found in church was what I found in art.Remember what I said about the craft of writing? Let's take a look at that final sentence:
"But that isn't God," I said. "That's people."
And she said, "Same thing."
And she said, "Same thing."
The story would have been weaker if she had written,
"Same thing," she said.
See what I mean?
* * * * *
Not only is she a PJ Harvey person, but she's also a dog person.
...maybe because the other dogs in the class were super expensive pedigreed inbred purebreds, Weimaraners and puggles and something called a doodle who, his owner informed us, was descended from kings. And Mojo and I looked at each other like: The fuck is this guy? while the doodle pooped on his own food.Note that she spelled 'Weimaraner' correctly. The truth is, I'm kind of in love. So much to love here.
An excellent review from Candi led me here. Thank you my good-taste friend!
March 7, 2022
This might be one of the ugliest covers ever, but the words inside made up for it. It would be a bonus to hear this author tell these stories, rather than read them. But, it was quite readable, relatable, and an eclectic collection of thoughts/essays on life, people and the events that shape us.
"Now I get the majority of my news from social media, staring at screens, moving between different feeds, more perspectives and greater truths. I miss having someone next to me, a leg pressed into mine, shoulders locked, body to body and together, breathing, living, alive."
Don't we all...
But for a little while, I felt her presence in the room with me. And I liked her spirit.
"Privilege isn't blame or shame or fear, it's responsibility."
I liked her philosophies.
"At the infant care classes you take at the hospital, they give you a doll to cuddle and swaddle and practice changing diapers. I accidentally broke off its legs."
I fell a little in love with her for living out my worst nightmare and the reason I never gave birth.
Every morning we go on walks in Humboldt Park, and we pass all these dogs, and always, about eight feet apart, their owners and I wind our leashes around our wrist. "It's okay, I call out. He's friendly!" "So's he," they call back, and we relax our grips, and our dogs sniff each other with waggy tails. It's got me thinking: Wouldn't it be great if it could go like that with people? You get to a certain distance and call out: "It's okay! I'm friendly!" or "Steer clear, I'm an asshole!"
I want this woman as my neighbor. She may not have any real answers or profound new thinking, but she's about as delightfully human as one can get, and being inside her head for a while was a welcome escape from my own.
"Now I get the majority of my news from social media, staring at screens, moving between different feeds, more perspectives and greater truths. I miss having someone next to me, a leg pressed into mine, shoulders locked, body to body and together, breathing, living, alive."
Don't we all...
But for a little while, I felt her presence in the room with me. And I liked her spirit.
"Privilege isn't blame or shame or fear, it's responsibility."
I liked her philosophies.
"At the infant care classes you take at the hospital, they give you a doll to cuddle and swaddle and practice changing diapers. I accidentally broke off its legs."
I fell a little in love with her for living out my worst nightmare and the reason I never gave birth.
Every morning we go on walks in Humboldt Park, and we pass all these dogs, and always, about eight feet apart, their owners and I wind our leashes around our wrist. "It's okay, I call out. He's friendly!" "So's he," they call back, and we relax our grips, and our dogs sniff each other with waggy tails. It's got me thinking: Wouldn't it be great if it could go like that with people? You get to a certain distance and call out: "It's okay! I'm friendly!" or "Steer clear, I'm an asshole!"
I want this woman as my neighbor. She may not have any real answers or profound new thinking, but she's about as delightfully human as one can get, and being inside her head for a while was a welcome escape from my own.
August 11, 2017
Oh man, this book.
The five biggest stars for this brilliant essay collection that is so real, true, and important. It tackles so many issues: motherhood, education, prejudice and white privilege, gun control, happiness, fear, love, writing, the current political climate, etc. etc. Seriously, it's so sharp and raw and the writing is phenomenal. I will definitely be rereading this one several times. I highly recommend this book!
The five biggest stars for this brilliant essay collection that is so real, true, and important. It tackles so many issues: motherhood, education, prejudice and white privilege, gun control, happiness, fear, love, writing, the current political climate, etc. etc. Seriously, it's so sharp and raw and the writing is phenomenal. I will definitely be rereading this one several times. I highly recommend this book!
August 28, 2017
The title is a bit misleading because Stielstra's certainly helped me through a rough week. Maybe the book didn't save my life, but it could. I could see it. It's a light in the darkness.
If everybody put a quarter of the passion, care, and empathy that bleeds out of every single sentence in this book, I feel like the world would be a much better place.
If everybody put a quarter of the passion, care, and empathy that bleeds out of every single sentence in this book, I feel like the world would be a much better place.
August 11, 2017
I have a lot to say about this but I'll have to come back Monday or Tuesday to do it.
ETA:
I WASN'T EXPECTING A MEMOIR. OK, wait, let me backtrack a few... BACK, back back, back in the day when I first moved to Chicago, this cool organization 2nd Story put on a two-week festival in I think the spring (April or May maybe) where every night for two weeks, you could go see four people read/tell a story and get a wine flight (1 wine for each story!) at the same time. I bought tickets for a few nights, and went to it a few years in a row, and along the way somewhere somehow I heard Megan tell a story. And then again. And then again. And then 2nd story did a New Year's Eve show, and I heard her tell a story there. There were quite a few, the one I remember most vividly was a story where she went to New Orleans, and then came home to Chicago, but opened her door to find a New Orleans brass band waiting there out front, and not only was Megan there telling the story but there was a DJ who chimed in a brass band right at that moment. It's like storytelling in 3D. It's like having a trumpet player hide outside your classroom door and then start playing right at the right moment in "Ben's Trumpet"...but oops I digress. She's a GREAT writer, but honestly seeing her tell/read a story live is just OUT OF THIS WORLD. She's an amazing performer.
Anyway, at some point in me attending these and being really enthusiastic about them and dragging everyone I knew to them, I wound up meeting Megan and getting to know her a little bit. We were probably just acquaintances rather than friends except she's the type of person that I don't think lives out in acquaintance realm, when you get to know her, you're in friend realm pretty fast. I had coffee with her once, I met her then-boyfriend or fiance Christopher, I think I even met her dad at one reading, I was someone sort of on the periphery of her life, and thought of her as a superstar storyteller on the periphery of mine.
But it was turning into a super good time in her life and kind of a crappy one in mine, and gradually I dropped out of that periphery. Nowadays 2nd story hosts events all the time, throughout the year, and in numerous locations, not just one, and I still go occasionally but I don't have the kind of time available now that I did then (Oh MY that was well before my teaching days). And so on anyway, life went on...and the years crawled by....but I still followed her blog and sort of knew what she was up to.
And a few years later, Megan's first book "Everyone Remain Calm" came out and my oh my did I just LOVE IT. I had heard her perform some of the stories and some were new and it was just everything I could ever have possibly imagined as Megan's book. LOVE.
I lost track of her then or didn't have time to read blogs but somehow I got alerted and was SO excited when her next book "Once I Was Cool" came out. And I got it. And I started reading it. And WOW, things had changed for Megan. I knew she and Christopher had had a kid, but I didn't know their condo/mortgage situation had gone sour, and I didn't know she'd had post partum depression plus/or followed by a serious back injury, and I didn't know... well, there were lots of things I didn't know, and reading about them versus the stories and the Megan I had known before... I'm not lying to you, people, I had to put down the book. I honestly couldn't keep reading. They were good stories, but they hurt. It hurt to read. It hurt to think about. And whatever was going on for me at that time (who knows but I'm not going to count back right now and figure it out) I just couldn't read about bad, hard things happening to her. So I went to hear her read, (and it was indeed just as good as it had ever been) and I said hi and reintroduced myself, and she signed my book, and then I went on with my life, setting the book aside thinking "Yeah, OK, maybe someday."
And then NOW, "The Wrong Way to Save Your Life" comes out, and yes while it does have some of the ache and the hurt of "Once I Was Cool" and it doesn't have quite as much of the bounce and the energy of "Everyone Remain Calm", she's a little bit further away from the bad, and I'm a little bit further from the bad in my life, and once I started reading this, I really couldn't put it down. Well, that's not totally true. I couldn't put it down ONCE I got used to its different style and once I realized it was legit really a memoir, and although there are separate stories, they seem more like chapters, and although the chronology doesn't really stick to the decade that introduces that section, the way it loops and spirals around, it keeps you grounded in time.
I read this book and Samantha Irby's "We Are Never Meeting in Real Life" as simultaneously as one person can read two books and while Irby's made me laugh harder, Megan's made me cry harder. While Irby's made me think about who I have been, Megan's made me think about who I could be. It made me cry more than it made me laugh, but it also made me feel fiercely hopeful and determined to be as determined as Megan in fighting for a brighter future for her kid (her actual son) and mine (my students). And what more could you ask from a book really?
If you want to read a memoir interlaced with stories, read this.
If you can't handle a memoir right now, and just want to hear really coooool stories, read "Everyone Remain Calm."
If you want something in between, stories that hit you in the sad spot stories, read "Once I Was Cool".
And then call me and tell me all your favorite parts and I'll tell you all of mine. Deal?
ETA:
I WASN'T EXPECTING A MEMOIR. OK, wait, let me backtrack a few... BACK, back back, back in the day when I first moved to Chicago, this cool organization 2nd Story put on a two-week festival in I think the spring (April or May maybe) where every night for two weeks, you could go see four people read/tell a story and get a wine flight (1 wine for each story!) at the same time. I bought tickets for a few nights, and went to it a few years in a row, and along the way somewhere somehow I heard Megan tell a story. And then again. And then again. And then 2nd story did a New Year's Eve show, and I heard her tell a story there. There were quite a few, the one I remember most vividly was a story where she went to New Orleans, and then came home to Chicago, but opened her door to find a New Orleans brass band waiting there out front, and not only was Megan there telling the story but there was a DJ who chimed in a brass band right at that moment. It's like storytelling in 3D. It's like having a trumpet player hide outside your classroom door and then start playing right at the right moment in "Ben's Trumpet"...but oops I digress. She's a GREAT writer, but honestly seeing her tell/read a story live is just OUT OF THIS WORLD. She's an amazing performer.
Anyway, at some point in me attending these and being really enthusiastic about them and dragging everyone I knew to them, I wound up meeting Megan and getting to know her a little bit. We were probably just acquaintances rather than friends except she's the type of person that I don't think lives out in acquaintance realm, when you get to know her, you're in friend realm pretty fast. I had coffee with her once, I met her then-boyfriend or fiance Christopher, I think I even met her dad at one reading, I was someone sort of on the periphery of her life, and thought of her as a superstar storyteller on the periphery of mine.
But it was turning into a super good time in her life and kind of a crappy one in mine, and gradually I dropped out of that periphery. Nowadays 2nd story hosts events all the time, throughout the year, and in numerous locations, not just one, and I still go occasionally but I don't have the kind of time available now that I did then (Oh MY that was well before my teaching days). And so on anyway, life went on...and the years crawled by....but I still followed her blog and sort of knew what she was up to.
And a few years later, Megan's first book "Everyone Remain Calm" came out and my oh my did I just LOVE IT. I had heard her perform some of the stories and some were new and it was just everything I could ever have possibly imagined as Megan's book. LOVE.
I lost track of her then or didn't have time to read blogs but somehow I got alerted and was SO excited when her next book "Once I Was Cool" came out. And I got it. And I started reading it. And WOW, things had changed for Megan. I knew she and Christopher had had a kid, but I didn't know their condo/mortgage situation had gone sour, and I didn't know she'd had post partum depression plus/or followed by a serious back injury, and I didn't know... well, there were lots of things I didn't know, and reading about them versus the stories and the Megan I had known before... I'm not lying to you, people, I had to put down the book. I honestly couldn't keep reading. They were good stories, but they hurt. It hurt to read. It hurt to think about. And whatever was going on for me at that time (who knows but I'm not going to count back right now and figure it out) I just couldn't read about bad, hard things happening to her. So I went to hear her read, (and it was indeed just as good as it had ever been) and I said hi and reintroduced myself, and she signed my book, and then I went on with my life, setting the book aside thinking "Yeah, OK, maybe someday."
And then NOW, "The Wrong Way to Save Your Life" comes out, and yes while it does have some of the ache and the hurt of "Once I Was Cool" and it doesn't have quite as much of the bounce and the energy of "Everyone Remain Calm", she's a little bit further away from the bad, and I'm a little bit further from the bad in my life, and once I started reading this, I really couldn't put it down. Well, that's not totally true. I couldn't put it down ONCE I got used to its different style and once I realized it was legit really a memoir, and although there are separate stories, they seem more like chapters, and although the chronology doesn't really stick to the decade that introduces that section, the way it loops and spirals around, it keeps you grounded in time.
I read this book and Samantha Irby's "We Are Never Meeting in Real Life" as simultaneously as one person can read two books and while Irby's made me laugh harder, Megan's made me cry harder. While Irby's made me think about who I have been, Megan's made me think about who I could be. It made me cry more than it made me laugh, but it also made me feel fiercely hopeful and determined to be as determined as Megan in fighting for a brighter future for her kid (her actual son) and mine (my students). And what more could you ask from a book really?
If you want to read a memoir interlaced with stories, read this.
If you can't handle a memoir right now, and just want to hear really coooool stories, read "Everyone Remain Calm."
If you want something in between, stories that hit you in the sad spot stories, read "Once I Was Cool".
And then call me and tell me all your favorite parts and I'll tell you all of mine. Deal?
November 12, 2017
Stielstra is a powerful story teller. I was drawn in by each of the essays. I was lucky enough to get this book on sale and had read the great reviews given to it on GR (which is why I bought it). Weather Stielstra is discussing post-partum depression, the great recession of 2008 or white privilege, she is always thought-provoking and engaging. I feel like both my heart and my mind were expanded by this book.
January 13, 2019
Love Megan Stielstra. Very passionate writer who has a relatable story for everyone. Language is a bit dramatic at times, so if you're prone to eye-roll, note that.
January 14, 2018
Fantastic! Brilliant, moving, illuminating and filled with vulnerability. I love this author and am following her on twitter.
January 19, 2018
I often think of Chicago as my third parent and this book made me sob with nostalgia. I lived in those neighborhoods. I went to that writing program. I have my own stories about it all. This book found me in the middle of a writing drought and by the time I finished reading the last page 3 days later, I knew exactly where to start again.
May 14, 2018
It took me months to get through this book. I picked it up bc Samantha Irby had given it such high regards and I wanted to like it so much. She can write, her topics are amazing, I’m sure she’s a great story teller but I just couldn’t connect emotionally with her book and felt it was a bit waste of my time. More of blogs sewn together than a cohesive book of any sort?
October 30, 2017
Wow, wow, wow. These essays are powerful in so many ways. Throughout so much of this collection I was choking back tears because, with such delicacy, Stielstra puts to words the frustrations and insecurities resulting from all of the unfair things that happen in life. Never before have I seen the notion of white privilege handled with such care and self-awareness.
While most of her themes are 'serious' - fear, postpartum depression, privilege - she intersperses humor that breaks up the heaviness.
Perhaps the most powerful essays were the four organized around age: "ten, or The Little Girl Character", "twenty, or Good Lord, It's Me, Jane.", "thirty, or Come Here Fear", and "forty, or Optimist". Each is a collection of moments or events from Stielstra's life that together show something about fear and resilience.
There is something in this collection for everyone, Stielstra is a very talented personal essayist.
"We were at your house for Thanksgiving. The boys wanted to play in the front yard with plastic swords and squirt guns. My son didn't understand why your son wasn't allowed to be outside with a toy gun. They looked at you. You looked at me. You and I had a conversation that didn't involve speaking, and my son and I went for a walk. I told him about Tamir Rice. About Tyre King. I grabbed the air for words to explain, knowing that my heartbreak is a puddle compared to the ocean you swim in every day."
While most of her themes are 'serious' - fear, postpartum depression, privilege - she intersperses humor that breaks up the heaviness.
"I am not proud of what happened next so I'll say it fast: When I got to the shelter the next morning there was a little girl, eight years old, maybe. She pointed at Mojo and squealed, saying, 'Daddy, look at that puppy! Can I have that puppy?'
'That's my dog,' I said, and I shoved her out of the way."
Perhaps the most powerful essays were the four organized around age: "ten, or The Little Girl Character", "twenty, or Good Lord, It's Me, Jane.", "thirty, or Come Here Fear", and "forty, or Optimist". Each is a collection of moments or events from Stielstra's life that together show something about fear and resilience.
There is something in this collection for everyone, Stielstra is a very talented personal essayist.
December 18, 2017
Please read this book. It will help you understand the power of personal stories that are told with wit, grace, and astonishing candor. It was amazing to read of relatives on different sides of the political spectrum that respected each other enough to keep reaching for understanding of the other side and each other. The most captivating part of this book were the stories about how art can reach us and make our lives better, as I've found this to be true. As for faith in God, Megan doesn't buy organized religion but is stopped short when someone says that God and people are the same thing. I don't buy that approach to theology wholeheartedly but I do know that God is love and we are called to love because of His love for us. So, spread some love and do some good today!
For anyone who has a favorite piece of art, song, book, or movie, you'll feel as though you've found a friend who understands your obsession with it. There are incredible portions on empathy, depression, and overwhelming love.
Read this book.
For anyone who has a favorite piece of art, song, book, or movie, you'll feel as though you've found a friend who understands your obsession with it. There are incredible portions on empathy, depression, and overwhelming love.
Read this book.
May 27, 2019
With the pink spine and obnoxious blue cover, I honestly didn't know how collection of essays would work for me. There's nothing inherently wrong with these colors, but seeing them together on this book is almost garish, not to mention that plastic heart on the cover. The title, however, intrigued me so I chose this as one of the books I had to read last semester. I was trying to find very personal essays, and while didn't know anything about this book or the author, it showed up on more than one list of essay collections that I finally decided to get a copy.
The description of this collection reminded me of Maggie O'Farrell's I Am, I Am, I Am: Seventeen Brushes with Death, though that collection focused more on the actual near-death experiences whereas Stielstra's is about a larger universal theme of fear, the large and small moments of fear she has experienced in her life.
On the cover, Roxane Gay blurbs, "Stielstra is a masterful essayist." Normally I take those blurbs with a lick of salt because those cover blurbs are all about being buddies with someone. Sometimes I walk away after reading a book and wonder if I read the same thing the author blurbing on the cover did. This is not one of those occasions.
Stielstra is a masterful essayist. I read in awe through the entire thing. Who is this Megan Stielstra person? Where did she come from? How did she make these essays tick? I spent a lot of time studying them and am no closer to an answer than I was almost a month ago when I read them. On the surface they are very basic. There's nothing particularly tricky about her essays, or overly deep. But they're really fucking good.
So maybe all of those excerpts have to do with writing which makes sense for where I am in my life. I'm still plugging away at this whole MFA for creative writing and I'm so close and yet not close enough. All I do is think about what I'm writing, what I'm not writing, what I should be writing. Occasionally I read, and that informs what I write. It's a strange and not altogether unpleasant cycle, but the point is that this is my fear right now. This whole writing thing. This effort I'm putting into it.
Reading Stielstra's words, whether about writing or not, helped me more than I expected and more than I can actually express in words. (Yeah, go ahead, just give me my degree, I'M AWESOME.) I'm glad I read this. She reminded me it's okay to look fear in the face and then write about it. It's okay to dig beneath the surface of our fears. It's okay to talk about them. It's okay if your fears are different than anyone else's. They are your's and that's okay.
The description of this collection reminded me of Maggie O'Farrell's I Am, I Am, I Am: Seventeen Brushes with Death, though that collection focused more on the actual near-death experiences whereas Stielstra's is about a larger universal theme of fear, the large and small moments of fear she has experienced in her life.
On the cover, Roxane Gay blurbs, "Stielstra is a masterful essayist." Normally I take those blurbs with a lick of salt because those cover blurbs are all about being buddies with someone. Sometimes I walk away after reading a book and wonder if I read the same thing the author blurbing on the cover did. This is not one of those occasions.
Stielstra is a masterful essayist. I read in awe through the entire thing. Who is this Megan Stielstra person? Where did she come from? How did she make these essays tick? I spent a lot of time studying them and am no closer to an answer than I was almost a month ago when I read them. On the surface they are very basic. There's nothing particularly tricky about her essays, or overly deep. But they're really fucking good.
I shy away from giving advice to writers and parents. We have different situations, different processes, different challenges and expectations. That said, I think what I learned at that residency might apply to all of us: Be gentle with yourself. The writing process is more than building sentences.
(p223, "forty, or Optimist")
Do you want to play too? You can do this on your own: grab a sheet of paper and draw a horizontal line between two X's. Do it. I'll wait. The X on the left? That's when you were born. The one on the right? That's however old you are right now. Take thirty seconds and mark some X's on that line for the moments that scare you; the big and the small, the wonderful and the awful, when you were six and twelve and twenty and forty. Don't think too hard about it; just get it out of you. See what you have to say. I wager you'll find some beginnings there, some meat and emotion and story. Write them. Paint them, dance them, scream - make something.
(p232, "forty, or Optimist")
One part in particular in [Frank Kafka's] Diaries that I keep coming back to: a section near the beginning, from the summer of 1910: "When I think about it," he writes, " I must say that my education has done me great harm in some respects." He talks about this for a paragraph, then stops and begins again: "I must say that my education has done me great harm in some respects," and on for another paragraph, digging deeper, until again he stops and starts again: "Often I think it over and then I always have to say that my education has done me great harm in some ways," and on again, still deeper. This repeats six times, each section coming at the idea from a different place and arriving at different ideas.
(p277, "The Wrong Way to Save Your Life")
So maybe all of those excerpts have to do with writing which makes sense for where I am in my life. I'm still plugging away at this whole MFA for creative writing and I'm so close and yet not close enough. All I do is think about what I'm writing, what I'm not writing, what I should be writing. Occasionally I read, and that informs what I write. It's a strange and not altogether unpleasant cycle, but the point is that this is my fear right now. This whole writing thing. This effort I'm putting into it.
Reading Stielstra's words, whether about writing or not, helped me more than I expected and more than I can actually express in words. (Yeah, go ahead, just give me my degree, I'M AWESOME.) I'm glad I read this. She reminded me it's okay to look fear in the face and then write about it. It's okay to dig beneath the surface of our fears. It's okay to talk about them. It's okay if your fears are different than anyone else's. They are your's and that's okay.
April 27, 2021
What if you're the one who saves us?
3.5 stars - rounded up because occasionally this book really does shine.
The foundation of this essay collection is the inextricable link between the personal and the political. Gun control, healthcare, education, feminism - all of these topics have an impact at the (inter)national, institutional, and individual levels, and Stielstra energetically weaves between them as she recounts pivotal episodes of her life. It's a book that seeks to inspire action in the reader - even if that action is to keep persevering in an uphill battle for one more day, or to be a little kinder to other people because you never know what impact that might have. The essays are loosely tied together by ideas around fear, and the belief that "You can't fix it if you can't see it"; there is a need to open up about the things that frighten and upset us, both for our own sake and for others. And indeed, I frequently felt comforted by the way Stielstra shares and contextualizes the rougher episodes of her own life.
However, there were a couple of things that kept me from truly embracing the book. The first is that it often felt surface-level and I wished she'd delved deeper into certain topics instead of resorting to snappy one-liners. The second is that she seems so focused on reiterating how she's a good ally - highly aware of her own privilege, knowing that other people are worse off than her - that it eventually starts to feel hollow and distracting. I am sure she does have a genuine awareness of these issues, but using them as a damper every time she talks about her own struggles creates a result that just feels lukewarm and self-indulgent.The third is the mention of Cheryl Strayed. Bleh.
3.5 stars - rounded up because occasionally this book really does shine.
The foundation of this essay collection is the inextricable link between the personal and the political. Gun control, healthcare, education, feminism - all of these topics have an impact at the (inter)national, institutional, and individual levels, and Stielstra energetically weaves between them as she recounts pivotal episodes of her life. It's a book that seeks to inspire action in the reader - even if that action is to keep persevering in an uphill battle for one more day, or to be a little kinder to other people because you never know what impact that might have. The essays are loosely tied together by ideas around fear, and the belief that "You can't fix it if you can't see it"; there is a need to open up about the things that frighten and upset us, both for our own sake and for others. And indeed, I frequently felt comforted by the way Stielstra shares and contextualizes the rougher episodes of her own life.
However, there were a couple of things that kept me from truly embracing the book. The first is that it often felt surface-level and I wished she'd delved deeper into certain topics instead of resorting to snappy one-liners. The second is that she seems so focused on reiterating how she's a good ally - highly aware of her own privilege, knowing that other people are worse off than her - that it eventually starts to feel hollow and distracting. I am sure she does have a genuine awareness of these issues, but using them as a damper every time she talks about her own struggles creates a result that just feels lukewarm and self-indulgent.
October 16, 2017
I was at a bookstore for an event and the friend I was with recommended buying this, so I did. Seeing Megan Stielstra speak at that event made me sure it was the right decision: she was talking about her favorite books and she was so full of love for the authors she knew and passion for words and the labor of writing. And she was funny.
The book holds up - reading it felt like listening to an old friend, one who's no longer embarrassed by caring too much about things like she maybe was in high school. She's been through enough to have wise words on what really matters, and she's a creative enough writer to make "it's your friends and family, obviously" feel like a fresh and new conclusion. I had so many moments where I thought "this reminds me of this friend" or "this sounds like something that friend would say."
If i have one complaint it's a usual one for essay collections - sometimes the pieces build on and call back to each other, but sometimes they just repeat themselves.
The book holds up - reading it felt like listening to an old friend, one who's no longer embarrassed by caring too much about things like she maybe was in high school. She's been through enough to have wise words on what really matters, and she's a creative enough writer to make "it's your friends and family, obviously" feel like a fresh and new conclusion. I had so many moments where I thought "this reminds me of this friend" or "this sounds like something that friend would say."
If i have one complaint it's a usual one for essay collections - sometimes the pieces build on and call back to each other, but sometimes they just repeat themselves.
January 22, 2018
A combustible, heartrending, beautiful mix of family, artmaking, teaching, triumph, tragedy, and being a woman today, yesterday, tomorrow.
More - http://www.changeyourlifethiswill.com...
More - http://www.changeyourlifethiswill.com...
August 25, 2022
A warm hug and a call to arms. Will be thinking about this one for a long, long time to come!
May 15, 2018
This book surprised me. I can't even remember how it ended up on my Kindle, and then one day I just clicked on it and then didn't want to do anything else but swallow up the author's words. It's deceptively straightforward and incredibly thought-provoking. I know I will return to it. Highly recommended, especially for writers of personal essays.
May 3, 2021
I don't even know what compelled me to pick this book up but after reading it as a renewed optimist, I can't help but think of it as a tiny miracle. I don't know if I've ever felt so seen and understood by a book in my adult life. Stielstra's writing is funny, electrifying, precise. I never knew an essay about postpartum depression could make me feel so understood even as a single, childless woman but hey, stranger works have struck me. Every essay made me want to scream, run, write, roll in grass, kiss a (COVID-19 free) stranger. The entire book reads like a directionless and insightful conversation with a new friend that you look at and can't help but think: what was the world before this? She tempers her thoughts with self-awareness, pointing towards the privilege with which she navigates through the world, moves us to nurture the shame of ignorance towards organizing our kindness and anxieties into tangible measures of a better world. The collection dissects fear, how fear envelopes our world and taints our relationships with the people we hold closest. While I can't say Stielstra teaches us that the antithesis of fear is bravery, she teaches us how to lean into it and that creating something out of the fear – a story, a friend, a memory; is all we need at times to keep these fears at bay.
I can only hope to one day grow into a fraction of the grace, candor and wit that Megan Stielstra bares her heart with in this book. I can already see myself returning to it constantly, and I am so excited to grow up with these words which as Stielstra already says are: "tools or weapons, depending on your translation."
I can only hope to one day grow into a fraction of the grace, candor and wit that Megan Stielstra bares her heart with in this book. I can already see myself returning to it constantly, and I am so excited to grow up with these words which as Stielstra already says are: "tools or weapons, depending on your translation."
December 15, 2017
Some of the subject matter done a little braver elsewhere (see my recent reviews of Lightesy Darst's Thousands or Claire Dederer's Love and Trouble: A Midlife Reckoning)
But, this book does better at a lot of other things those two books aren't up to. It's a longer and wider view, both softer and sharper...more ways the internal (including organs) are examined. If you are a fan of the poetry of Heid E. Erdrich or the memoir Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail or even, like me, a fan of Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl you'll like this (according to my algorithm).
But, this book does better at a lot of other things those two books aren't up to. It's a longer and wider view, both softer and sharper...more ways the internal (including organs) are examined. If you are a fan of the poetry of Heid E. Erdrich or the memoir Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail or even, like me, a fan of Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl you'll like this (according to my algorithm).
December 22, 2017
I didn't know I needed this book, but I really needed this book.
You have to look at it to fix it, she writes over and over again, "it" being whatever amorphous, inarticulatable mass of fear and hope and grief and joy and rage happens taking up all the air inside you. Take it out, she says. Put it in front of you. Give it a shape. Poke it, turn it around, take it apart. Put yourself back together.
In this book, Megan Stielstra had words, the right words, for a whole lot of things I felt that I didn't know I felt until I read about how I felt. That, friends, is an underrated form of catharsis.
Maybe you could use some catharsis, too.
You have to look at it to fix it, she writes over and over again, "it" being whatever amorphous, inarticulatable mass of fear and hope and grief and joy and rage happens taking up all the air inside you. Take it out, she says. Put it in front of you. Give it a shape. Poke it, turn it around, take it apart. Put yourself back together.
In this book, Megan Stielstra had words, the right words, for a whole lot of things I felt that I didn't know I felt until I read about how I felt. That, friends, is an underrated form of catharsis.
Maybe you could use some catharsis, too.
September 3, 2017
It started with promise but devolved into long ranting blog entries very loosely based on the subject of fear. Maybe I'm not the right audience. She's obviously successful.
December 13, 2017
Gorgeous, poetic, hard, feminist essays. A la Roxane Gay, Lindy West, but all her own, too. Will be seeking out more of her work. She’s gloriously brave in her revelations of self and society.
January 2, 2019
First day of 2019, 2:54am
This was the 99th and final book I finished in 2018, and it was probably the most perfect way to close out the year.
Megan Stielstra says, “I remembered how to start thunderstorms with my brain” on page 156, and that’s how I can best describe what happened to my own brain while reading this book. It was like the years of focusing on everything but writing melted away, and suddenly I was grabbing for a pen every few pages to write in the margins—the beginning of a forthcoming review of Jeff Tweedy’s memoir, little reminders of things I keep meaning to write about but haven’t for no good reason other than a lot has happened in the past few years and maybe just now I’m starting to process bits and pieces. "Be gentle with yourself," she advises. "The writing process is more than building sentences."
I got this ARC copy at the ALA conference in June 2017, two months before its release. I remember being enticed by the title and then it got lost in my ever-growing to-read pile (#librarianlife). I started reading it this past April while drinking a Wake’n’Bake latte at Star Lounge. Earlier that day, I relocated my turtle, Ninja, to a new home (that’s a whole saga in itself, one of which I plan to write about someday soon—how talking about Ninja to a room full of 8th graders was one of the first Aha moments regarding my own white privilege) and subsequently reached out to an old friend via text to see if he’d be interested in salvaging my grandparents’ player piano before my dad donated it in an effort to empty our childhood home ASAP (another potential saga/novella/book of essays in the making). “Found new homes for my turtle and my piano today- what a relief! An unexpectedly productive Sunday,” I texted back after he enthusiastically said they’d take it.
I immediately loved Megan’s style of writing and all of the Chicago references (we both live/d in Wicker and Humboldt Park, we both frequent/ed Inner Town Pub, and both remember a neighborhood when places like Earwax could still afford the rent). I proceeded to carry the book in my bag everywhere I went (see Instagram post for worn cover evidence) but have no good explanation for why it took me till now to read most of it in the final week of the year. Maybe I knew that it would be just what I needed, as I’m feeling more and more disenchanted and frustrated with my career in education (for a lot of the same reasons she experiences and writes about in some of these essays: bureaucracy, school shootings, inequity, the government, but also: "I explain that I make more money pouring mimosas than I do teaching college students. Let's sit quietly for a moment and consider what this says about our culture"..."when the your whole of your job becomes defending that job, it's hard to see through the fear.") and feeling that gravitational pull back towards writing. And art. Or some combo platter of the two.
All this to say: I highly recommend this book.
Thank you, Megan, for sharing your words/world and for inspiring my brain to get back to work.
"Hold on to what you love, the songs and books and style and obsessions and causes and questions that make you you. Find people who love those things, too. When you get lost, they'll help you find your way back to yourself." (footnote on p 246)
This was the 99th and final book I finished in 2018, and it was probably the most perfect way to close out the year.
Megan Stielstra says, “I remembered how to start thunderstorms with my brain” on page 156, and that’s how I can best describe what happened to my own brain while reading this book. It was like the years of focusing on everything but writing melted away, and suddenly I was grabbing for a pen every few pages to write in the margins—the beginning of a forthcoming review of Jeff Tweedy’s memoir, little reminders of things I keep meaning to write about but haven’t for no good reason other than a lot has happened in the past few years and maybe just now I’m starting to process bits and pieces. "Be gentle with yourself," she advises. "The writing process is more than building sentences."
I got this ARC copy at the ALA conference in June 2017, two months before its release. I remember being enticed by the title and then it got lost in my ever-growing to-read pile (#librarianlife). I started reading it this past April while drinking a Wake’n’Bake latte at Star Lounge. Earlier that day, I relocated my turtle, Ninja, to a new home (that’s a whole saga in itself, one of which I plan to write about someday soon—how talking about Ninja to a room full of 8th graders was one of the first Aha moments regarding my own white privilege) and subsequently reached out to an old friend via text to see if he’d be interested in salvaging my grandparents’ player piano before my dad donated it in an effort to empty our childhood home ASAP (another potential saga/novella/book of essays in the making). “Found new homes for my turtle and my piano today- what a relief! An unexpectedly productive Sunday,” I texted back after he enthusiastically said they’d take it.
I immediately loved Megan’s style of writing and all of the Chicago references (we both live/d in Wicker and Humboldt Park, we both frequent/ed Inner Town Pub, and both remember a neighborhood when places like Earwax could still afford the rent). I proceeded to carry the book in my bag everywhere I went (see Instagram post for worn cover evidence) but have no good explanation for why it took me till now to read most of it in the final week of the year. Maybe I knew that it would be just what I needed, as I’m feeling more and more disenchanted and frustrated with my career in education (for a lot of the same reasons she experiences and writes about in some of these essays: bureaucracy, school shootings, inequity, the government, but also: "I explain that I make more money pouring mimosas than I do teaching college students. Let's sit quietly for a moment and consider what this says about our culture"..."when the your whole of your job becomes defending that job, it's hard to see through the fear.") and feeling that gravitational pull back towards writing. And art. Or some combo platter of the two.
All this to say: I highly recommend this book.
Thank you, Megan, for sharing your words/world and for inspiring my brain to get back to work.
"Hold on to what you love, the songs and books and style and obsessions and causes and questions that make you you. Find people who love those things, too. When you get lost, they'll help you find your way back to yourself." (footnote on p 246)
May 21, 2022
Just wow. What an extraordinary little book. I haven't become accustomed to a lot of "essay" books yet, and this could not have been a more perfect introduction to that world. I absolutely loved the range of topics that Megan discussed, and how she didn't just focus on one singular aspect of her life. I feel so privileged that she shared so much with us about her own life, and I loved the fact that she included some seriously important discussions with her friends about racial discrimination and feminism. Her writing style is absolutely magical, the book felt like a conversation with a friend! Loved it.
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