About a year and a half ago, I wrote a book. No, it’s not published yet. (Stay tuned. It could take a while). After completing the first draft, I shoved it aside, overwhelmed by the research I’d have to do eventually to get it into good shape.
Three months after coming home from our European vacation, I decided I was ready. I took a deep breath, opened my baby draft, and said to myself, “Here we go.” My journey toward editing my book had begun.
Part of editing your own book, especially when it’s historical fiction, involves looking at other books, both fiction and nonfiction, that’s related to your own. And because the timeline of my novel occurs during a time when I was not yet born, I felt that it was important to get it right.
***
Back when I used to live in a tiny but cozy 650-square-foot apartment in northeast Portland, I often walked down to the Hollywood branch of the Multnomah County Library with my kids, both as a way to get some exercise (pushing a plump baby in a stroller and holding hands with a toddler will do that to you) and to escape the summer heat. We lived upstairs, and for years, we didn’t have an air conditioner. Even when we did, we could only afford to turn on one during hot summer days to keep the bills down.
Thus, the air-conditioned library became my sanctuary. And so, on a hot August afternoon, I came back to my sanctuary. The only difference is that now I live much further away. We got into the car—me, my husband and the kids, now more grown and no longer dependent on strollers—and headed toward my favorite branch.
Twenty minutes later, we arrived and went our separate ways.
After fifteen minutes of browsing what I call “fun stuff,” aka new fiction titles, I strolled toward the back of the library, where they shelve history books. U.S. History, the Civil War, and Native American history were what I saw first. As I lowered my head to see what was available for the Vietnam War, I heard a voice behind me.
“Excuse me,” the voice said. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you doing research for school?”
I turned to my left, and there was a man who looked no older than 40, wearing a baby blue button up, blue jeans and glasses. But what stood out more than his attire were his greasy skin. It shone at me, slick as an oil spill.
“No,” I said. “I’m actually doing research for my book.”
He cocked his head. “Oh, really? You’re writing a book?”
“Yep.”
“Tell me more about it,” he said. His face showed genuine interest.
I was so taken aback by his statement. This had never happened to me before. People at public libraries tend to keep to themselves. And every time someone approaches me in an unexpected way like this, I lose my ability to lie. So I just…tell the truth.
“Have you ever read An American Marriage by Tayari Jones?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“It’s a great book. I highly recommend it. Anyway, my book is like a cross between An American Marriage and The Stationery Shop by Marjan Kamali,” I rattled on. “It’s a love story, but more like a love triangle. At least, that’s how I’m going to pitch it. It’s a story based on my parents’ youth during the Vietnam War.”
Oh my god, where was this coming from? I did not understand why I was rattling off details of an unpublished book to a complete stranger.
“Ohh,” he said, looking more interested now. “That’s so great! I’m a big history buff myself, and I saw you were looking at the shelf. I’m doing some research too.” Then he extended his hand and introduced himself, a name that I promptly forgot as soon as it was uttered from his lips. So I’ll call him Stranger.
“I’m Hoang,” I replied. But in my head, I was Homer Simpson. Doh! I thought to myself. Why did I tell him my real name?
“Nice to meet you, Hoang,” Stranger said. “I’m wondering if you don’t mind exchanging phone numbers so we can get coffee sometime. You know, to talk about our research.”
Wow. At this point, you might say the guy’s a creep. And I’d have to agree. Which was why, when he took out a slip of paper and a pencil and handed it to me, I gave him an old number, a number that was recycled and now belongs to Molly.
How do I know it belongs to Molly? Because when I went to PetCo recently with my son, the cashier asked me for my phone number before starting the transaction (which I could’ve said, “No thanks, I don’t want to give you my phone number” but instead I just went along with it. Again, doh!) and after typing it in, she said, “Molly?” and I said, “Yep!” Luckily, my son did not expose my lie even though he knows my real name isn’t Molly.
***
In her excellent TED talk, Kio Stark, author of When Strangers Meet, presented a different perspective on talking to strangers. “When you talk to strangers, you’re making beautiful interruptions into the expected narrative of your daily life and theirs,” she says. Strangers are, by definition, someone you do not yet know very well. Someone you may never see again. Therefore, it’s easy to participate in what she calls “disclosure,” in which you disclose something personal about yourself to the stranger and vice versa, knowing that they will not judge you the same way as someone whom you’re close to might.
“When you talk to strangers, you’re making beautiful interruptions into the expected narrative of your daily life and theirs.”
Perhaps that’s why I didn’t hesitate to tell Stranger about my book. Because there’s a good chance we’ll never meet again, I felt the freedom of release, of knowing that if my book never gets published, it’ll be okay, and if it does get published, perhaps one day he’ll see the cover in a bookstore or a library and think to himself, “Something seems familiar about this.” Maybe. You never know—serendipity lurks in just about every corner.
LFL Project
To combat the impending winter doldrums, I’ve decided to keep myself busy with an indoor project: illustrating every Little Free Library that I can find. If you’re unfamiliar with Little Free Libraries, you can find more information about them here.
To do this project, I need photos for reference. If you live near a Little Free Library or have photos of them, please send them my way. Simply reply to this email or contact me directly at hoangsamuelson@substack.com. Much appreciated!
Book Rec
You know a book is special when after reading the sample chapters available on Amazon, you immediately buy it without giving it a second thought. That’s what happened with Everything I Learned, I Learned In A Chinese Restaurant by Curtis Chin, out on October 17th. It’s a memoir about Chin’s experiences growing up in his family’s Chinese restaurant in a not-so-desirable part of Detroit, Michigan in the 1980s.
This book hits three winning points for me.
1) It’s food-related.
2) It’s funny.
3) It’s relatable. Even though I’d never lived and worked in a Chinese restaurant and therefore, have no idea what it’s like, I could definitely understand the experiences and feelings that Chin talked about. It’s beautiful, evocative, and I can’t wait to finish it.
Wisdom of the Week:
In James Clear’s book Atomic Habits, he reminds us about the power of small actions on your future self.
“Time magnifies the margin between success and failure. It will multiply whatever you feed it. Good habits make time your ally. Bad habits make time your enemy.”
Now it’s your turn. Tell me…
Have you ever had an interesting interaction with a stranger? Let me know in the comments!
What’s a really good book you’ve purchased and read lately? Why did you choose that book?
I really love your drawings, Hoang! Kudos on writing a book. The encounter in the library does sound a mite creepy, but then we’re all a little cynical these days, aren’t we? I’ve told my life story to strangers on planes, trains and in restaurants while waiting for the check. Somehow it’s often easier to talk to strangers than to friends. It’s probably as you say, that you most likely will never see them again, which creates a certain freedom. I imagine if I did run into one of these folks, I’d be horrified! Good luck with the book!🤗