Reaching New Heights

Hiking mountains and scaling new writing terrain.

Hello lovely readers! How is everyone in this moment? A moment is all we really have, but it can be challenging not to project ahead or to spiral into our emotions, particularly with everything that is happening in the world (and especially if you’re an empath). I think what is called for in this moment is grace—I’m giving myself grace for being late with my last newsletter of June, grace with my memoir revision, and grace in accepting the disruptions to routines while trying to lean into the summer of it all. As always, thank you for being here!

HEIGHTS: high places, or the top of hills. A high level, usually of success. (Source: Cambridge Dictionary)

A week ago today, I was reading at my first open mic. Taking my first hike at 8,000 feet elevation. Workshopping 15 pages of my memoir manuscript to a group of fellow memoirists.

Since returning from Aspen Summer Words, a week-long workshop and writing conference, I’ve told many people that my time was transformative. I mean that on a number of levels. To carve out the time, resources, and intention to invest in myself and my writing. To show up for myself and other writers, to be fully present and connect with other creatives, accomplished authors and aspiring debuts alike. To try new things, even if they scared me.

As I scaled literal heights in Snowmass, Colorado, I was pushing up against a growth edge to reach new personal heights. The path is rarely straightforward, the conditions not always optimal—I had a wicked sinus infection pretty much the whole week, but I pushed through and tried to soak up as much as possible (taking great care to keep my germs to myself!) Perhaps it was the cold meds, or the stuffiness in my head, but maybe not being hyper attuned to my nerves allowed me to enter some sort of flow state during open mic night.

I’ve been on camera, presented on live TV, and once introduced Maya Angelou to a crowd of thousands when she spoke at my alma mater, Northern Michigan University. But I’d never read pages from my memoir aloud to other people before. I selected an excerpt from my opening chapter, a scene where I’m on assignment for a magazine, in the midst of the second of back-to-back dinners, and getting crushed with food. I’d been told before that this material had moments of humor, but as I eased into my delivery, it was so gratifying to hear laughter throughout and hearty applause when I finished. One new writer friend even gave me a standing ovation!

I’ve queried agents before, but sitting across from one in person is much different than reading their comments on a screen. It was so valuable to get editorial-minded feedback on my first ten pages and to be asked new questions to elicit a new approach for thinking about crafting my narrative. I felt confident in finally articulating what my book is about: A food writer who seeks to honor what she is hungry for, on and off the plate. A woman who goes from feeling like not enough, to feeling fulfilled. After my open mic, one agent even encouraged me to send her more material!

During workshop, I was floored again and again by the care our group of memoirists took with one another’s manuscripts, offering feedback as rich and diverse as our voices and stories. I loved when our instructor, Héctor Tobar, told me that I had an eye for absurdity and detail. On paper, he is almost intimidating presence—a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and author of six books published in fifteen languages, including, Our Migrant Souls: A Meditation on Race and the Meanings and Myths of Latino and the New York Times bestseller Deep Down Dark: The Untold Stories of 33 Men Buried in a Chilean Mine and the Miracle That Set Them Free. He’s also a professor of English and Chicano/Latino Studies at the University of California, Irvine, and you’ve probably read his opinion pieces in the New York Times. Throughout the week, he was a warm, generous presence, sharing craft tips and details of his own projects and pursuits, successes and failures, and I feel grateful that I can count him as part of my literary community.

I made friends with several of my fellow workshop participants and am so invested in each of their projects. I hope that we can continue to support one another as we continue to put one foot in front of the other on our uphill journey to crafting and publishing our stories. I loved meeting writers from the other workshops, too—screenwriting, book branding, sci-fi/fantasy, and fiction—and hearing about their impressions and takeaways. It was inspiring to hear bestselling authors share their hard-won insights and validating to hear that they still struggle with process, discipline, and craft.

I hope to keep riding this high into my next round of revision, and to keep the sights, smells, and sounds of Aspen in my mind’s eye. The way the air was perfumed with a mingling aroma of earth, flowers, and mountain streams. The wildflowers popping off in shades of blues, purples, and yellows. The majestic peaks, many of them still snow-dotted, the way tree leaves rustled like shiny sequins in the cool breeze, as if cheering me on my way.

When you climb a mountain, you must come down. But even removed from the glorious bubble of Aspen Summer Words, I’m embracing my new heights state of mind, eyes trained on the next set of peaks to scale.

Memoir Updates

Just before I left for Aspen, I received my line-edited manuscript back from my editor along with an edit letter. The edit letter can be a source of anxiety for some, but I was so encouraged by Brian’s heartfelt words and encouragement. It opened with “I was thrilled to have the opportunity to edit this polished, connective, multifaceted memoir, which seeks to close the distance between taking on too much and not feeling like enough, a growth journey that many readers will identify with.” I’m planning to review his line edits more closely, along with feedback from my memoir workshop, and formulate a game plan for the next round of revision. My hope is to start to query agents again this fall!

Published Articles & Media Appearances

• Smoke ‘Em If You Got ‘Em

  For Edible Blue Ridge I wrote about Mama Jean’s BBQ’s highly anticipated brick-and-mortar. Madison Ruckel’s barbecue is some of the best I’ve had (I feel qualified to make this statement after living and eating in the South for more than ten years) and I’m excited to watch this next chapter unfold for him and his wife Kelli.

• Corner Booth

  Check out the June and July installments of my monthly food column for The Roanoke Rambler for Roanoke restaurant news and happenings, a first impressions review (this month’s is the excellent food truck Burritos Paso Del Norte) and a reader-generated dining question (like where to find pupusas and tamales in Roanoke).

• Giddy Up

  My latest dining review for The Roanoker covers Show Pony, a “fine diving” bar with tiki-leaning cocktails and well-wrought classics, plus an eclectic menu of supremely savory snacks and globally- and regionally-inflected dishes. It’s a lot of fun there, and I had a good time writing this one up.

Books, Bites & Beverages

Books:

At Aspen Summer Words, we received a voucher for a book—there were loads of books from the faculty and presenters on display, and since I had just bought Héctor Tobar’s latest, I opted for Wild Game, a memoir by Adrienne Brodeur. Adrienne is also the executive director of Aspen Words and an accomplished publishing pro too. It is not a food memoir, but I love how she rendered cooking and kitchen scenes to give us a portrait of her mother, and how the kitchen became another complicit character in her mother’s affair. A highly recommended, juicy read.

Bites:

Sometimes when I go out to eat, I feel like I have to order according to what I think will best serve the story. When I’m travelling, I like to try something I wouldn’t ordinarily get to sample. This cheddar jalapeño elk bratwurst (pictured above) from Elk Camp fit the bill nicely (even if only for my own personal narrative), enhanced by the perfume of the grill just behind me and the sight of dust-covered mountain bikers coming down the trails. I loved the medley of caramelized onions and sauerkraut on top, with an ample sidecar of whole grain mustard-mayo for slathering. This is the kind of casual Aspen restaurant that also has grab-and-go bottles of Veuve Clicquot in the coolers and for sale at the outdoor bar, so my brat was a real steal at $14.

Beverages:

I’d been avoiding alcohol at the beginning of the week in Aspen, not wanting to contribute to dehydration while I was trying to stave off altitude sickness. When my cold set in early on in the week, I abstained for the duration. I was delighted to sip this lavender lemonade (pictured above) at Aurum Food & Wine while out for drinks and appetizers with several of my workshop friends. Juicy, sweet-tart, with a beguiling purple hue, it was the ideal beverage to wash down a plate of teriyaki-soused duck wings.