Category: fiction

All Fours by Miranda July

Sara Crowley1 Comment

Miranda July is always interesting and writes with appealing and strange honesty. To read a novel where the narrator is an intelligent middle-aged woman , independent and even (gasp) sexual, is a treat. How many novels have been written where an old male professor of literature or similar has an active sex life with a younger woman – yawn. All Fours shouldn’t feel so unique but is. The narrator is supposed to go to New York for a 3 week work trip and is persuaded to drive – road trip! Instead, she only makes it to a nearby town where she spots a handsome young guy working in Hertz. She holes up in a motel for the night and then…  just stays.

This quote stopped me and had me sending it to my pals in one of those glorious connection moments with the note “THIS! Exactly this” – “If birth was being thrown energetically up into the air, we aged as we rose. At the height of our ascent we were middle-aged and then we fell for the rest of our lives, the whole second half. Falling might take just as long, but it was nothing like rising. The whole time you were rising you could not imagine what came next in your particular, unique journey; you could not see around the corner. Whereas falling ended the same way for everyone.”
This is a novel about someone examining aging, being a mum, wife, creative artist, friend, taking pause to look at who they are and reconnecting with themselves. It’s also about a peri-menopausal woman having a fierce crush and exploding into their desires.

 I mean, it’s bonkers and all written from a point of monied privilege: the narrator can afford to take this time for personal growth and exploration thanks to a wealthy husband and personal success in an opaque arts related field,. They can leave their child and husband for 3 weeks and then reshape their life. They can pay to have a shabby motel room redecorated in an expensive plush replica of the fanciest of hotel rooms. It’s not relatable. Her lifestyle doesn’t have to be though, it’s enough that these thrilling words are written. The ending wasn’t satisfying for me, but who cares? I love that July writes this messy, complicated, eccentric stuff. Long may she continue.

Prison stories.

Sara CrowleyLeave a comment

I’ve been working in a prison library and teaching creative writing there for a few years now. I’m fortunate to do a job I love and find meaningful and I spend a lot of time talking to prisoners about their lives. It’s pretty impossible to take part in a creative writing group without revealing something of yourself (although at least one person has managed) and I see it as a privilege to be part of a process that helps people open up and explore their creativity. I think that’s one of the reasons I stayed away from writing any prison based fiction for so long. I want to be respectful and would hate to be exploitative. I try to encourage the men to write their own stories. (Saying that there are a few guys whose stories I would love to write. I do have a little fantasy of doing a Three Women kinda thing where I could follow up on their lives for 10 years or so – it’d be fascinating – before and after prison. I’m fairly sure the prison wouldn’t agree though.)

When you spend time in a place it inevitably seeps into your writing and I have begun a series of short prison stories. They are fiction and aren’t based on anyone real. I am, however, grateful to some of the guys for their assistance with details about kettle cooking and help with language. I learnt some stuff. Apparently, nobody would ever call another prisoner a dude unless they were a “middle class, middle aged wanker from Cornwall.” Also, if you need to know how to jam a kettle switch to make it a hotplate, I’m your gal.

Thanks to The Mechanics’ Institute Review for publishing my story, Doing Time.

http://mironline.org/doingtime/