Everybody Reads and Heidi W. Durrow

Tuesday I got a surprise phone call from a colleague who was unable to attend an event so she offered me her tickets. It was an event I'd been very interested in attending, but had never gotten around to actually getting any tickets. Each year Multnomah County Library organizes a community reading event called Everybody Reads. The idea is to use the power of a book to help create a stronger sense of community. More information can be found here.

This past Tuesday was the final event with Heidi W. Durrow, author of this year's selection, The Girl Who Fell From the Sky. I first stumbled upon this book in early 2010 pretty soon after it was published. I can't remember what drew me to it in the first place, whether it was the title or the cover or my curiosity over what the Bellwether Prize was about. It could also have been the blurb from Barbara Kingsolver, a personal favorite, on the cover. Whatever it was, I took it home and pretty much devoured it in one sitting. I remember my initial evaluation was that it was a book filled with sadness and with hope. I remember liking it very much.

I was quite pleased to hear, this past fall, that it was going to be the 2012 selection for Everybody Reads. I was looking forward to revisiting the book and discussing it at the book group we would be hosting. So on the flight home from my grandfather's funeral, I began reading the novel for the second time.

One of the things I noticed on my second read was how much discussion there was about telling stories.

"It's not a true story, but I tell it to myself. What difference does it make anyway? I tell myself that story because it could be true. It could have happened that way. Things happen in different ways."

"I don't know if the true story about Anthony Miller or about the day on the roof or about any story you could think of matters. If there's no one else to tell another side -- the only story that can be told is the story that becomes true."

I have long been enamored with ideas of stories and truths. In An Abundance of Katherines John Green writes, "You don't remember what happened. What you remember becomes what happened." I think a lot about memory and history and how two people can remember the same event in such different ways. There is a reason eyewitnesses don't always make or break a case.

Aside from stories, this book is about a great many other things. At the event at the Schnitzer Tuesday, the author, Heidi W. Durrow, talked about her struggles getting the book published and how it was rejected because they thought no one could relate to the story of a Danish-African American girl. This at once made me very sad and very angry.

How simplistic! How narrow minded! I have no real life experience with aliens, ghosts, being a man, living in the past, living in the future, or so many other things/people I've read about. But I can love the story, love the characters, and I can relate and empathize with experiences so unlike my own. That is the very magic and power of books.

I don't always want to read something that reminds me of myself, of my life. Sometimes a book is meant to let us escape our daily lives for a few hours. To teach us something new, to share a world previously unexplored. It just made me so sad to hear the simplistic response some publishers gave this work.

But then, I thought back to our book discussion. At one point, one of the ladies (the book group consisted of 100% Caucasian women and I think I was the only one under the age of 50) asked the question, "Why would they choose this book for their selection? I don't really get it." It was an honest question and I'll admit I was a little surprised to hear it. I said a few words and then one of the other ladies began to talk about her son (white) and her daughter-in-law (not white) and how they were raising their biracial children. And then more good, open and honest discussion continued from there and I think I might actually have said towards the end, "I think this is why the book was chosen."

I am so grateful those publishers were proven wrong. I am so glad to hear of so many conversations sparked.

The event on Tuesday night was amazing. Our seats were close to the front (I guess a perk from being connected). Heidi Durrow was delightful and funny and sincere and it was so inspiring and thought provoking to hear her talk about her book and her journey. There was a great deal that rang true to what I've been thinking and feeling about writing and about time.

I've finally learned that no matter how busy I might think I am, time can always be found for the things that are important to me. Like finishing this novel. Like making my writing an important part of my life. Like going for a walk. Like breathing.

I am so, so grateful that I got to go to the event. I am so glad my husband decided to come with. It filled my heart when we stood up to leave and he said to me, "All I want to do is go home and read this book."

There are still many, many things that I want to say about this book and this event, but I think it's time to wrap up this somewhat scattered post. I will leave you with one last quote from The Girl Who Fell From the Sky.

"That night Laronne couldn't sleep as it stormed outside. Her thoughts of Nella and of the boy and baby, now dead, and the girl, these things had made a bookmark inside of her."

I'm going to go spend some time thinking of the people and experiences that have left a bookmark inside of me.