meno

One thing about living in the city is that there are, at any given moment, lots of things to stumble upon and bump into. Recently, on my way to see Michael Chabon at the Harold Washington, I slipped into the lobby of a little building on State to see what Joe Meno (Hairstyles of the Damned, The Boy Detective Fails) was up to.

—Where's the reading? I asked the welcome desk.
—The what? the desk returned.
—I think there's a reading here tonight. Do you know where that might take place?
—No. There are only classes here. Math classes, computer classes, literacy classes.
—Ooh! Literacy classes. Where are those?
—10th floor.

Once on the 10th floor, I walked into a small, hot office suite and waited to talk to someone in one of the cubicles. Around me people slouched in various uncomfortable chairs.

—Do you work here? one of the slouchers asked.
—No. I'm just waiting to ask someone about something, I vagued.
—Do you have your GED? someone asked.
—No, I don't.

A minute later I was ushered into a hotter, fuller room and offered ranch dip and potato chips with lemon-y jarrito in styrofoam.

—Do you work here? someone asked.

Twenty minutes and several conversations about the merits of passing the GED later, Joe Meno began to read from a collection of memoirish pieces.

—That was a short story? someone asked at the end of his forty minute reading.

Meno smiled and said, yes, but he hadn't realized how long it was. And thanks for listening. He then answered questions about what fiction and creative nonfiction are, how one might encourage one's precocious, writerly daughter, and just what kind of content bookslut.com might publish.

To my mind, Meno's work oscillates between simple beauty and some things that don't quite work, but his example of how to be a writer in the city—teaching at Columbia, reading with the literati, reading to people learning to enjoy written story for the first time—is a consistently good one.

Thanks, Joe.


The newest book: THE GREAT PERHAPS is the story of the Caspers, a family of cowards: Jonathan, a paleontologist, searching in vain for a prehistoric giant squid; his wife, Madeline, an animal behaviorist with a failing experiment; their daughter, Amelia, a disappointed teenage revolutionary; her younger sister, Thisbe, on a frustrated search for God; and grandfather Henry, who wants to disappear, limiting himself to eleven words a day, then ten, then nineÉ Each fears uncertainty and the possibilities that accompany it. When Jonathan and Madeline suddenly decide to separate, this nuclear family is split, each member forced to confront his or her own cowardice, finally coming to appreciate the cloudiness of the modern age. With wit and humor, The Great Perhaps presents a revealing look at anxiety, ambiguity, and the need for complicated answers to complex questions.