Amy Inspired
Page 29
I nodded.
“It’s been mostly renovated, turned into studios, critique space. A little kitchen. But there’s still a loft that you have to get up to by ladder. And you can lay there on your back and look out the window at the clouds or the stars or the rain. I used to go there when I couldn’t think anymore, when I got frustrated. I went to try and figure out some problem. I always ended up thinking of you.”
He sat close enough that our arms touched, and at the slight brush of skin on skin I knew I had no reason to doubt.
“I would think about the first time I saw you,” he said.
“At the poetry reading,” I said.
“Well, then,” he agreed, encouraged by the specificity of my memory. “But I saw you before you saw me—outside actually, when you were getting out of your car. You got your scarf stuck in your car door. You nearly took your own head off walking towards the building.”
I laughed because I was embarrassed and because it was funny and because I was drugged with a kind of happiness I hadn’t allowed myself to expect.
“Your hair was so bright,” he said. “Practically orange in the sunlight. You stood out from across the entire lawn. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
He thought a moment, said carefully,“I can’t go back to Copenhagen, Amy. That was always temporary.”
“I know.” I reached for his hand. “Who says we have to go back?”
He smiled, and in his smile I saw a hundred futures, altogether bright as our field of glowing lights.
EPILOGUE
I found an ending for my story.
Linda Pendigrass takes her box of rejections to the kitchen table. To her left is the phone book. To the right, twenty-eight envelopes and twenty-eight stamps. Into each envelope she stuffs an old rejection letter, adding a form letter of her own:
Dear Mr. Charles Andrew Plumb (Lewis Armstrong Baker, James Michael Harris, Byrone Calob Holmes, and etc.):
We apologize, but Linda Pendigrass does not read rejections and is not accepting unsolicited criticism at this time.
She forgives you for your gross indecorum.
Sincerely,
The Representatives of Linda Pendigrass Liberated
Woman at Large
Linda Pendigrass takes the twenty-eight letters to the post office and ships them to Pittsburgh, Chicago, Boston, and so on and so forth.
Driving away from the post office, she comes to a four-way stop. Ahead, the town where she grew up, the town in which she has lived these forty-two years. To the left the Pacific, and to her right the Atlantic.
She takes her time, considering.
The End
(or: THE BEGINNING OF THE INTERESTING LIFE)
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. Amy and Zoë share the same dream, the same faith, and the same bathroom—and yet they regularly irritate each other. How does their relationship evolve from that of the irksome familiarity between housemates to the intimacy of deep friendship? How can crisis serve as a catalyst for growth in otherwise casual relationships? Did their friendship remind you of any in your own life?
2. Amy is frequently forced to revise her first impressions of people; this is most evident in her relationship with Eli, who perpetually challenges her assumptions about the Christian life. Did the strong feelings between Amy and Eli in spite of their differences come as a surprise to you? How did you feel about their differences, particularly in regards to the practice of religion?
3. Eli is not the only one whose physical appearance is atypical from Amy’s perception of normal: Zoë is also seen sporting a number of purposefully colorful wardrobes, from striped stockings to wigs of real human hair. What is the relationship between dress and identity for both Zoë and Eli? For Amy herself? Do you think all dress is inherently performative, even when unassuming?
4. Eli, Amy, and Zoë inhabit an adult world conspicuously devoid of children, and yet the longing for children and for childhood itself imbues the story with a poignant sense of absence. Amy sees adulthood as a cumbersome accumulation of experiences, both good and bad but above all arbitrary. She claims that her childhood self has been collaged over with “badges applied thin and too early lacquered in place.” Do you relate to her angst or were you grateful to leave childhood behind? In what ways do the needs of our “inner child” compel our behaviors as adults?
5. Toward the end of the novel, Amy suspects her unrelenting ambition masks secret pain. In what ways does the fear of rejection become its own terrible motivation for Amy? How do you see it playing out as a primary source of motivation in our society? What is it about rejection that is so crippling spiritually and emotionally?
6. Amy’s family played a considerable role in making her who she is, and yet Amy sees herself as vastly different from both her mother and her father. Do you think she could ever erase the influence of her background or if she should at all? How important is family in determining who people become and how they live their lives?
7. Many of the characters experience loss: the loss of youthful idealism, of significant others, even of loved ones. Despite the many crises the characters face, their sense of humor prevails. What role does humor play in the novel? In the experience of grief in your own life?
8. In his sermon on Ecclesiastes, Pastor Maddock asserts that to disregard the possibility of some kind of heaven is to in effect concede the futility of every mortal life. The belief in life beyond death, however, not only comforts the grieving but also affirms the individual. Did you agree with his interpretation of that Scripture? Does the concept of eternity in any way influence your daily life?
9. Excerpts of Amy’s own writing are included at various points in the story. Notably, these passages appear when she is grappling with an emotional conflict of her own. In what ways does she sublimate her problems in her writing? Do you think she is guilty of “borrowing from life” in the same way that she so ardently criticizes Zoë for? Have you ever done something similar for catharsis, whether intentionally or not?
10. The novel concludes with the ending of Amy’s most recent short story. This is the only story we see her complete. How does the ending she chose—and the fact that she found one at all—influence your interpretation of the book overall?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you, Aaron, for coming across the room to dance with me at that wedding and for the adventure you’ve brought into my life every day since. Always, thank you, Mom, Dad, Christy, and David for making me laugh, for encouraging my flights of fancy while keeping my feet on the ground. Mark and Mary, I’m indebted to you for your advice and support through a year of transitions.
Thanks to Andy McGuire, Dave Long, Paul Higdon, and the entire team at Bethany House; without you this book would never have realized its full potential. Raela Schoenherr, you are both a wonderful editor and a “kindred spirit.”
And finally, to the students who inspired me. Thank you Lindsey Bullinger and Tim Lu, for volunteering yourselves as characters (sorry to disappoint); here’s to afternoons under The Arch, break-dancing and heckling tour groups. Thank you, Kathy McCarty, for macaroni and book-club/movie night; I will forever regret that I missed your victory school bus derby race. Stephanie Albers, Laura Schwietering, Corinne Dowd, Katie Gorsuch, and Samantha Brendalen, I was the one with the grading rubric, but you were the ones raising the bar for me as both an instructor and a friend. And to the many others who brought their senses of humor, enthusiasm, and iMovie skills to the classroom: thank you for making those three years interesting— and for making my life easier than Amy’s.
After completing a master’s in Creative Writing and working as a visiting instructor at Miami University in Ohio, BETHANY PIERCE now lives with her husband in Charlottesville, Virginia, where she is a member of the McGuffy Art Center and continues to write. Her first book, Feeling for Bones, was one of Publishers Weekly’s Best Books of 2007.