Saving Ruth

by Zoe Fishman

  “David, of course. It’s fantastic.”

  “Thanks, Ruth.” We stood in silence for a minute. “You know the girl and boy?” he asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “That’s us. When we were little.”

  “What do you mean, that’s us?”

  “Look!” I moved closer to the outlines. Without paint, they looked like floating ghosts. “See, there’s that watch you always wore.”

  “Oh wow, I had forgotten about that. I got that for my ninth birthday. It was purple. I never took it off.”

  “Yep. And if you look at the boy, you can sort of see that his bathing suit is that striped one I used to always wear.”

  “Yes! I see it. You wore it every single day.” I laughed, remembering. “And you refused to let Mom wash it.” I moved closer to the wall. “And there’s that silly friendship bracelet I used to wear around my ankle!” I looked at him. “You remember that?”

  “Of course. That’s all you, M.K., and Jill did—braid those things morning, noon, and night. Your room was like a Bolivian clothing factory or something.”

  “It was! I remember.”

  “I mean, they’re not going to have our faces or anything.” He reached out to brush a fluttering moth off of the boy’s leg.

  “Well, no, that would be weird.”

  “Can you imagine?” he laughed. “And now, I’d like to unveil my mural—”

  “Of myself,” I finished.

  “But we’ll know it’s us.”

  “We will.” I stepped back and took his hand shyly. “Thanks, David. For making me a part of this. It’s a beautiful mural.”

  “You’re welcome.” He squeezed my hand. “You’re always a part of this.” He pointed to himself with his other hand. “Of me.”

  “You too,” I whispered, squeezing back.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my brother, Brenner, for his support and trust. Thank you to my parents, Ethan and Sue, for believing in me.

  A big thanks to Mollie Glick—a fantastic agent as well as a quality hang. I’m so glad I found you. Thank you to my wonderful editor, Jeanette Perez, whose insight and wisdom made this a much better novel, and also to Brittany Hamblin who jumped in so graciously and offered such excellent advice.

  Thanks to the Shacham family—Nurit, Ronen, Yaniv, and Karen. Moti was such a life force, and your journey since his passing inspires me every day. I am very grateful for all of you. Ronen, I couldn’t ask for a better partner. Thanks for loving me, even when I am a pain in the ass.

  And a final shout-out to my fellow swim clubbers circa 1984–1996. Writing this novel brought so many happy memories back—the intoxicating odor of grass clippings, chlorine, and corn dogs; the unrivaled refreshment of the Otter Pop; and the victory of finally mastering the elusive front flip, just to name a few. Thank you.

  P. S.

  Insights, Interviews & More . . .

  About the author

  My Writing Journey

  I ALWAYS KNEW that I wanted to be a writer. Or actually, I should rephrase that a bit. I always felt most comfortable when I was involved in the process of writing. I can vividly remember walking home from kindergarten, drunk with power as I imagined the stage I would set for that afternoon’s Barbie drama.

  Or another time in first grade, when we were supposed to be drawing and/or glittering quietly, sitting with paper and pencil next to my classmate and instead transcribing the various ways by which he should spend quality time with his girlfriend. One of these activities involved taking a bubble bath together. Not soon after declaring this a must-do, my teacher took the paper up. I don’t remember what happened next, but I do remember making him and myself happy by expressing the things he could not. Or most likely, forcing him to express the things he could not for my own entertainment. I was a bossy kid.

  I started keeping a journal in the third grade (a Ramona Quimby journal, to be exact) and continued through my late twenties—sometimes religiously, sometimes sporadically, but always happily. My worries were considerably less threatening on paper. Nine times out of ten, they had to do with boys. Boys, boys, boys. Reading them now, which I sometimes do when I’m procrastinating, is both remarkably hilarious and painful at the same time. Oh, Zoe, I whisper, shaking my head and cringing incessantly. Oof.

  But it was these journals that always made me feel like a writer, even if I was writing nothing else. In my twenties, working in book publishing, I would marvel at the discipline required to bring books to life. These were writers who made it happen. And someday, I would too, as soon as I watched this last marathon of Laguna Beach or pressed snooze one last time on the alarm clock.

  At a certain point, I got tired of hearing myself complain about my lack of drive. It was time for some discipline. In my mind, I had two choices—join the army, which I was pretty sure was out of the question given my advanced age, or enter the New York Marathon lottery. I went with option two, and to my great surprise and initial despair, was picked.

  That summer, I became a training machine. Drinking, having sex, and smoking were out. Running was in. And when I somehow managed to cross that finish line, I was a new person. If I could drag these Jewish breasts across five boroughs without dropping dead, I could certainly commit to writing a damn novel. And eventually, I did.

  With this, my second novel, I’m still a bit nervous to call myself a writer. Am I? Really? Am I that lucky? Well, yeah, I am. I’m eternally grateful and humbled by that fact. I’m pretty sure my marathon days are behind me, but I hope that my writing ones have just begun.

  A Life in Books

  First book you remember reading?

  Best Friends for Frances by Russell and Lillian Hoban

  Favorite little known novel?

  The Slaves of Solitude by Patrick Hamilton (This may not be little known at all as it was originally published in 1947, but I recently read it thanks to my pal Damian, and was blown away. So witty and sharp.)

  Favorite bookshop?

  Book Court in Brooklyn

  Best film based on a novel?

  The House of Sand and Fog by Andre Dubus III

  Best short story you’ve ever read?

  Anything by Aimee Bender

  Any authors you’d like to have dinner with?

  Anne Lamott, Jhumpa Lahiri, Elizabeth Strout, Ann Patchett, David Sedaris . . .

  Books on your nightstand?

  Swamplandia by Karen Russell, The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides, and Your Pregnancy Week By Week by Dr. Glade B. Curtis, OB/GYN, and Judith Schuler, M.S.

  All-time favorite literary character?

  Olive Kittredge from Olive Kittredge by Elizabeth Strout

  About the book

  Q&A with Zoe Fishman

  Who are some of your biggest literary influences? Was there a book that changed your life or inspired you to “pick up a pen”?

  I am inspired by the writing of so many authors, but if I had to pick a select few, I would say that Ann Patchett, Anne Lamott, Jhumpa Lahiri, Zadie Smith, David Sedaris, and Elizabeth Strout are at the front of the pack. I’m not quite sure I can say that a book inspired me to pick up a pen, since really it was my parents’ encouragement of reading and writing from a very young age that lit the fire, but I do remember entering a short story contest in high school. My work was eventually published in the school’s literary magazine and my art teacher at the time, whom I really admired, pulled me aside to tell me that my writing reminded her of Alice Hoffman’s. As I had just finished Turtle Moon and loved it, it was the ultimate compliment. I think that was the first moment I sincerely thought about writing a novel of my own some day.

  Do you have any writing rituals? Or perhaps vices that help get you through the process of writing a novel?

  I write best in the early morning. It’s a combination about the lack of distraction—no one else is awake to bother me and online gossip reading and/or shopping just isn�
�t as interesting at 5:30 in the morning—and the fact that I’m not alert enough to question every sentence I write that works for me. I don’t really have any vices at this point (God, how boring) but if I’m up against a wall, I have been known to treat myself to a little something from my virtual mall in order to restart my engine. Also, tweezing is good. There’s something about the immediate gratification of errant hair extraction that soothes me. That said, there’s a fine line between casual plucking and outright brow removal. Most of the time, shopping is safer.

  In your first book, Balancing Acts, you focused on four women in New York City. But in Saving Ruth you have a much different setting. What was it like to write about your hometown? Was it hard to write about a place you were so close to?

  It wasn’t hard so much as tricky. Ruth is nineteen, as I was the last time I lived in my hometown for an extended period of time. That’s sixteen years ago for goodness sake. As my circumstances have changed, so have my perceptions over the years. I wanted to stay true to that frame of mind however, as that’s key to her story.

  Race and religion come to the forefront in this story. These are two hot topics that many find it hard to talk about. Was it difficult to include them in your story? Why did you want Ruth to face these questions of identity?

  It was difficult to include them, because I think that whenever you do, you run the risk of misinterpretation or offending someone indirectly. They came up organically as the plot took shape, largely because, like Ruth and David, I grew up Jewish in the south. I think it was very important for Ruth to face these questions of identity, since she’s so obviously at the start of her own journey to figuring out who she really is. She’s moving outside of her self-indulgent bubble for what’s really the first time and developing a genuine interest in the wherefores and whys of other people’s behavior.

  Saving Ruth could be seen as a family novel, a coming-of-age novel, or a look into a small town. Did you set out to write one of these? Does one of these labels feel more correct than the others?

  I really wanted to write about a brother and a sister at a crossroads, as I had yet to encounter a novel that specifically dealt with that unique relationship. Through that desire came the coming-of-age, familial, and small town themes, which really appealed to me as both a writer and a reader.

  What advice would you give to aspiring writers?

  Practice, practice, practice. Try your very best to carve out a little writing time each day. Discipline has been the key to my confidence. There’s nothing like a breakthrough after several pages of blah. One of my top five feelings, for sure.

  The Birth of Ruth

  Like Ruth, I was a swim coach and lifeguard during the summers of my teens. I always wanted to write about those summers—the private jokes between the lifeguards, the quirks of the patrons, and the very specific beauty of southern twilight time. Sitting on the electric blue wooden stand, watching the pool lazily while classic rock wafted over the loudspeakers and kids splashed beneath me in that rose-tinted light— that was the perfect encapsulation of my youth.

  The pool at which I worked inspired Saving Ruth. I changed some things of course (I never had to rescue anyone, and weed was never smoked on the job), but tried my best to stay true to its vibe. So many times while writing this novel I could feel the relentless heat radiating through the concrete deck beneath my feet or my wet hair dripping down my back; taste the sugary Skittles from the snack bar and see the way my red bathing suit contrasted against my brown thigh. All I had to do was close my eyes at my makeshift desk in Brooklyn. Time travel is easy when the memories are that close to the surface.

  Some of my favorite times as a lifeguard were spent during the inevitable thunderstorms that crept up almost every afternoon. The sky would darken, the air would grow heavy, and in the distance a bolt of lightning would extend its tentacles menacingly. Immediately, I would count backward from fifteen—fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve—and if thunder rumbled before I got to one, it was everybody out or else. The kids would fly out of the pool in terror, fleeing the premises entirely. Whoever I shared the shift with and I would sit inside the snack bar, feet up, wrapped in our damp towels, smoking cigarettes and sipping cans of ice cold soda until it passed over.

  Although short in length, that hour or so almost always provided the perfect backdrop for a confession of some kind. I think the relief that the rain provided—from the heat and the kids—encouraged it. I knew I wanted Ruth and David to share that time together, and in writing about that I became interested in the juxtaposition of something as serious as a drowning or near drowning happening immediately after. I wanted to take their vulnerable relationship from that rare moment of good natured stillness to utter chaos.

  I really enjoyed writing about Ruth and David’s relationship. What brothers and sisters mean to each other changes so much as they get older, especially as they’re searching for their own identity outside of the family they were both raised in. That thread of communication is so easily lost; I think more so between sisters and brothers than between sisters because of the fact that they’re so incredibly unrecognizable to each other at certain points—first through puberty and later as a result of the different interests they invariably develop.

  The race and religion issues came up organically as the plot took shape, largely because, like Ruth and David, I grew up Jewish in the south. To be clear, I know that racists are everywhere, and that Judaism is misunderstood all over the world. I’m just writing about what I experienced, good and bad. Racism and ignorance is not the rule in the South by any means.

  Further to this, I worried as I was writing that readers would assume that the book was autobiographical. Yes, I have a wonderful brother and parents that I love very much, but they are not David, Marjorie, and Sam. Sure, there are small pieces of them here, just as there were pieces of myself and my friends in Balancing Acts. I think that this kind of transferrence is inevitable for a writer.

  Ruth, on the other hand, is very much like the nineteen-year-old me of yesteryear. College was the first time I had ever really been away from home, and boy did it blow me wide open. I developed an eating disorder and was seduced by its power very quickly. People treated me differently when I was rail thin. Most important, boys treated me differently. Suddenly I wasn’t just the funny smart ass. I was pretty and it was intoxicating. I became terrified of food and of relinquishing my newfound power. However, even as I was in the throes of my disorder, in the back of my mind I knew that I couldn’t live that way forever. That internal battle between the irrational me and the sane me was something I always wanted to write about. With Ruth, I got that chance.

  Read on

  Balancing Acts

  BALANCING ACTS: A NOVEL

  With beauty, brains, and a high-paying Wall Street job, Charlie seemed to have it all—until she turned thirty and took stock of her life, or lack thereof. She left it all to pursue yoga, and now, two years later, she’s looking to drum up business for her fledgling studio in Brooklyn. Attending her college’s alumni night with flyers in tow, she reconnects with three former classmates whose postgraduation lives, like hers, haven’t turned out like they’d hoped.

  “An ebullient and wise novel. The pages flew by and I was sad when my time with these great characters ended—but not too sad to try some yoga.”

  —Valerie Frankel,

  author of This Is the New Happy

  Romance book editor Sabine still longs to write the novel that’s bottled up inside her. Once an up-and-coming photographer and Upper East Side social darling, Naomi is now a single mom who hasn’t picked up her camera in years. And Bess, who dreamed of being a serious investigative journalist a la Christiane Amanpour, is stuck in a rut, writing snarky captions for a gossip mag. But at their weekly yoga class, the four friends, reunited ten years after college, will forge new bonds and take new chances—as they start over, fall in love, and try to change their lives.

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  Also by Zoe Fishman

  Balancing Acts

  Credits

  Cover design by Mumtaz Mustafa

  Cover photograph by plainpicture/Christian Brodack

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  SAVING RUTH. Copyright © 2012 by Zoe Fishman. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

  FIRST EDITION

  ISBN 978-0-06-205984-0

  EPub Edition MAY 2012 ISBN: 9780062059857

  VERSION 04252012

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