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the everyman memoirs

The official blog of author Tali Nay.
NOV
13

Daylight Savings Time

For the first time I can remember, it has bested me. Daylight Savings Time. I simply cannot adjust myself. By 8:00 every night I'm sure it must be midnight (is this happening to anyone else?), and I'm lucky if I stay awake until 9:00. This means I'm up at 5:00, unable to fall back asleep. Leaving me exhausted by evening time, starting the cycle all over again.

HOW CAN I ESCAPE FROM THIS TERRIBLE HOLD????

After a week I thought I'd finally feel aligned this morning, but after an early bedtime (I was exhausted after a day at Disney, OK?), I got up early, cleaned the house, and was back in bed for some quality Sarah Vowell reading time by 8:00 AM. Keep in mind, these are pretty much full nights of sleep I'm getting. So why in the middle of Sarah's essay on Frank Sinatra I suddenly started to feel...at 8:30 AM...that I desperately needed a nap is beyond me. I thought of all the things I needed to accomplish. And there were a lot of them. Yet most pressing in my mind as I drifted off were thoughts along the lines of, "Well, I guess my body really needs this," and "I should listen to my body." The body that had ONLY BEEN AWAKE for three hours. After having gotten a full night's sleep.

Whatever. Tomorrow is a new day. And there's always the chance that I'll actually sleep until my alarm rings. Given my morning nap, it's a small chance, but I'll take it.

NOV
04

Cleveland Against The World

It was almost hard to root against the Cubs.

Unless you’re me. In which case it was very easy. Because Cleveland is my heart.

And so I’ve been recovering on behalf of a city that has such a long-standing history of sports tragedy and misfortune. I’ve been recovering from blowing a 3-1 lead and losing a world championship. I’ve been thinking a lot about Golden State, about how confident they must have felt being up 3-1 against the Cavs, and how much it sucks to be on the other side of that. The side that doesn’t come back in epic, historic fashion. Can you say karma, Cleveland? I can. Dammit.

I’m not such a horrible person that I’m not happy for the Cubs. I am. I am happy for them, for the curse being broken, for their well-deserved championship after such a stellar season. So, no, I’d like to think I’m not a horrible person. I’m just a loyal one. I’m loyal to Cleveland. Heck, I spent a small (read: not at all small) fortune last week to fly to Cleveland and see one of the games. In fairness, I was mostly there to see my Cavaliers get their rings, raise their championship banner. But I was also there for the Indians. I was there because it was pretty much Cleveland’s best day ever. And if you’re at all familiar with Cleveland, the Cavs’ arena is right next door to the Indians’ ballpark. So to be standing there, right in the middle of it, a team about to raise a championship banner on one side and a team about to play game 1 of the World Series on the other, was something to savor. More than that—it’s something you know you’ll never experience again. Like, ever.

Despite the loss, I’m proud of the Indians. I’m proud of their little team that could. I’m proud of Cleveland; a city that’s had an indisputably red-letter year. And despite the cold weather that my now-wimpy California self is completely unsuited for, not to mention the huge hole in my pocketbook, I don’t regret the trip in the slightest. In a crowd of tens of thousands, I ran into the man I once loved, and I still don’t regret the trip. See what I mean about Cleveland being my heart? Some cities are just in you. You are tied to them in ways you’ll never shake. Not that you would even want to. And why should you? Until next time, Believeland, I’ll be dreaming of you.

OCT
23

Subtlety

They do though.

This was part of my display at Friday night's ArtNight Pasadena, an event I've now attended for the second straight year. Part of me wonders why I went back. Not that it isn't a GREAT event, but it's just such a big event. And all the authors get stuffed into various nooks and crannies in the castle-like (charming yet simultaneously stinky) library. Even for the few people who manage to find you in the back corner of this dimly-lit building, most of them aren't really prepared to pay for something inside a library. Not that they couldn't. But that, on principle, they believe libraries should exclusively provide free stuff.

I do kind of get it. An event inside a bookstore will sell exponentially more books.

Not that it was a total loss. I met some great authors, sold a few books, and the best moment was when a woman saw the cover of Jeweled and loudly exclaimed, "I've read that!" She proceeded to ooze to the woman who was with her about what a fascinating and well-done book it is, and you'd think this other woman would have bought a copy. Indeed, before I got into this whole book thing, I was sure all I needed was a small core group of people who read and liked my books, and that The Snowball Effect would take care of the rest. That your book sales largely stop with this core group of people who read and like your books has been one of the most surprising lessons of bookselling.

"I may be back," the woman's friend said after looking at the front and back of Jeweled, an obligatory response to her companion's glowing endorsement.

She never came back, but then again, I knew she wouldn't.

No matter.

I'll continue to do these events because, in spite of everything, I enjoy them. And because you never know who'll come by, like you, read your stuff, and start the snowball that will eventually lead to your big break. Or at least lead to someone loudly exclaiming in front of a room full of book lovers that yours is particularly fine.

OCT
12

Back At It

So's my cat, clearly (some help she is), but the truth of the matter is that I've begun writing again. After I finish a book I take a nice long break. This one has been especially long, but it's not as if there isn't still booky work going on. Typesetting decisions, cover options, etc. Most of this post-writing work falls on others, but still, it feels a bit hasty to the part of myself that can't even be reading more than one book at the same time to begin writing a new book when the last one hasn't even come out yet. But I've begun dabbling and think I may have what may or may not be the first few pieces of what may or may not end up being book #4.

Gotta say. It feels good to be back.

And if you're wondering when book #3 will be dropping, let me just say that if you find yourself in the mood for a collection of tragically relatable love stories (that are mostly not about love) around, say, Valentine's Day, then you just may be in luck.

Until then, I'm just going to keep writing. And (mostly not) loving.

 

 

OCT
01

Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho

Look! It’s me at a mine!

I’m a gemologist so you’ve got to give me this one, but seriously, this was a fun day. Granted, my back and arms ached from all the lifting and hunching, and I forgot to put sunscreen on my ears, but there’s something incredibly satisfying about digging for gems when you know each bucket full of dirt and rock could be the one that unites you with a sparkly crystal that’s come straight from the earth. There’s also something incredibly satisfying about standing in the very tunnel where certain gems (in this case, morganite and kunzite) were first discovered. Again, I’m a gemologist.

Even for those who are gem-clueless, I still think this is a fun day. And it won’t take long to get the hang of what you’re looking for. Not just because gems are, well, COLORED, as opposed to the gray and brown of rock and dirt. But also because they grow in characteristic structures that make them (and their smooth, flat surfaces) pretty easy to pick out. And most mines that let you come dig will let you keep anything you find. Keep your expectations realistic…mines really only produce certain kinds of stones…and rarely anything crazy big…but to me it’s worth it for the possibility. (Plus, how often can you get away with wearing a shirt that says "Dirty Girls Rock" on the back and have it be so gemologically apropos?)

latest tweets

TaliNayBooks I think that's how you know it's a good book.
TaliNayBooks So engrossed in the end of #tinybeautifulthings that I didn't realize someone was stealing my carry-on from the plane. @CherylStrayed