From Left to Write Book Club: The Stuff That Never Happened, by Maddie Dawson

I loved reading “The Stuff That Never Happened”, by Maddie Dawson. It was suitably juicy story – girl meets guy, marries him, following him across the country, falls in love with someone else — it made me want to figure out the ending, and there’s a birth in there which, while not a necessary component to favorite books of mine, definitely doesn’t hurt. This birth reminded me that while I still don’t think babies are good for marriages, births, most definitely, are. Part of the book is about figuring out who the protagonist loves, and if it’s possible to love more than one person. It made me think of the concept of soul mates – that person whom each of us shares a deep and natural affinity for.

Many years ago, Ed and I were sitting in the Drafthouse watching a movie in Arlington, Virginia. Ed makes two distinct remarks every time we go to this theatre. First, “the service sucks” and second, the pizza crust tastes like “fuckin’ Bisquick”. The first comment can be interpreted as, “the waitress didn’t take his beer order fast enough”, and that’s a matter of judgment. It really isn’t worth discussing. We like the place because you can watch a cheap movie while enjoying dinner and a drink. It seems like a much more social way to see a movie than the traditional sitting next to each other silently.

The second comment is a little harder to understand. As a former New Yorker, Ed cares about things like pizza crust. I’m from Kansas, so not only do I not really care about pizza crust, I don’t take it as an insult when it is compared to Bisquick. As lobbed by Ed, it most certainly is an insult. And yes, there are other items on the menu, and yes, since we last went to this theatre on any regular basis, the menu has been revamped entirely.

During this particular visit, the lights went low, and in walked two women, who sat next to us. It was dark, we really didn’t get a good look at them. As these women waited to place their order, one of them muttered “the service sucks”. Finally, her order was taken and as soon as her food was delivered, she bit into her pizza and practically spat out “this pizza crust tastes like fuckin’ Bisquick”. I nearly fell off my chair I was laughing so hard. So I sat there, telling Ed “OMG – DID YOU HEAR THAT? DID YOU, DID YOU?” and he laughed a little, but mostly took it as validation for his own ridiculous comments, remarking along the lines of “see, I TOLD YOU SO”. I told him right there, “clearly, this woman is your soulmate. You cannot let her leave the movie theatre without asking her out on a date. Please, do not let me stand in your way.” I am confident that we were not yet married, I’m not sure if we were engaged, but I know we were living together so there was some pretty significant level of commitment between Ed and me.

The movie credits started playing, and just as I was preparing to lay eyes on Ed’s soul mate, she disappeared from the theatre under the cover of darkness, just as she had entered. Despite my urging, Ed did not go chasing after her, and he never did discover who his soul mate was.

Sometimes when Ed is in a particularly grumbly, New York state of mind, I like to remind him that he could’ve run off with his Bisquick Hating Pizza Crust soul mate and they could’ve spent their lives complaining about ridiculous things, making each other happy in that “only happy if you’re miserable sort of way”. But of course, Ed knows better than that, and the hallmark trait of a soul mate is probably not a complaint in common. Which is why, next month, Ed and I will celebrate 12 years of being together. Happy almost anniverary, Ed.

Love,
Elaine

As a member of the "From Left to Write" book club, I was given a complimentary copy of this book. I was not required to write about the book. I enjoyed reading the book and am now passing it along to my friend Thrift Store Mama. I loved having the chance to record this story for Helen and Connor to laugh at later.

This is Not the Story You Think It Is - by Laura Munson

I think everyone I know in DC participates in a book club. I tried this, once, but it didn't pan out. You see, only about half the people in the group ever read the book, and our discussions centered around what book we'd (fail to) read next, gossip in our lives, and food. None of these are bad, but as one might guess, having a book club where many people don't even pretend to read the book is not a formula for success.

Not to be dissuaded by history, I'm trying it again. I am now a member of the From Left to Write book club. This book club formed out of the former SVMoms book club. And I had just decided to join when the site folded. Bummer for me. But, Linsey Krolik, former editor of the SVMoms book club didn't skip a beat in creating the new book. Yay!

First up: "This is Not the Story You Think It Is: A Season of Unlikely Happiness", by Laura Munson.

Throughout this book, a comment my friend Helen made to me kept ringing in my head. Babies are not good for marriages. (And you can take that to the bank - and anytime you see a couple struggling and thinking a baby will solve it, think about her words!) I used to think mine was the only one whose home was disrupted by the presence of an infant. But then one day, Helen and I were sitting around and I was probably telling her that never in my marriage had I wanted to divorce Ed, except for the two times I've had an infant living in my home, and she agreed. And it was as if someone had finally turned a very bright light onto what was then, probably a very dark corner.

You see, some marriages fail. I get that. In fact, some seem destined for failure moments after they form. Others fail leaving friends in utter shock, wondering what could possibly have happened to that perfect couple. If my own ever fails, I hope it falls into the latter category. I've been witness to both of endings to a marriage. But in this book, when Laura Munson's husband announces that he's not sure he can love her, she simply doesn't buy it. She doesn't buy it in the same way I don't buy it when Helen announces "I don't want to [insert any fun activity we've done in the past two months, when her contrary phase has been in full force]". Rather than running the other way, which is what I might have encouraged her to do years before I had children, Munson decided to stick with her husband, putting up with all manner of strange behaviors, to see what would happen in the end. Because deep down, she considered hers a successful marriage - one between partners. This act of standing by requires an absolute commitment to living in the moment.

And that same commitment to live in the moment is the commitment I felt I had to adopt during sleepless nights with an infant, when both Ed and I were giving more to the upkeep of our home than we had ever before. And some days, it felt like only that precious baby whom we both adored was able to melt my heart, and remind me why I adored Ed. Who else would voluntarily wake-up, walk out to his struggling wife and tired baby and know to intervene? Who else would know just the right time to take the baby, and just the right time to let me and that baby forget anyone else existed? Who else could be a rock amidst the turmoil?We could've given up at some point, but we waited out the really tough time, until the wonderful moments strung themselves together and started to dominate, rather than dwelling on the crap.

Here's a story about a woman whose husband is going through a midlife crisis, brought on by job stress, money problems, and a general dissatisfaction in life. And for whatever reason, something deep down tells her to wait it out, by living in the moment rather than dwelling on an already completed past or an uncertain future. It served as a great reminder of my past when I had infants in the house, and today, when living in the moment can provide such absolute joy. Because as much as I worry about next year, ultimately today is what matters. And right now, things seem good.

Elaine

You can read other book club members' reactions to this book here.

Although many members of the book club received a free copy of this book, I borrowed the copy I read from the Arlington County Public Library.