I want to tell you about Paris, in some sort of lyrical way that’d do justice to Paris. But I’m in the deadzone of jetlag. So all I can say is Paris was perfect. In every way. It was nothing I feared and more than I hoped. I tried to write it all down while I was there. So that I wouldn’t forget anything. But I’d get distracted by an argument at the cafe between the construction workers carving up the sidewalk out front and the cafe owner, who I loved, who told my French had gotten better since I arrived, who when I asked for just the baguette, the croissant was too much, brought me two baguettes, so that I ended up walking around Paris with an emergency baguette in my pocket. Or I’d pull out my notebook on a bench on the Seine and end up feeding the baguette to the impossibly pretty pigeons. How the fuck are their goddamn pigeons pretty.
That's wonderful, Lauren. I've heard authors say how different it is there, we are respected for writing. It's not something the audience thinks they can do, if only they read the right blogs or take a course on LitReactor. I'm so glad you had a good time there. Maybe book 3, you write from a house boat on the Seine. Hear me out.
Your joy in that picture is so real it made me cry. You made it! You really did.
I know it's strange, but I am so damn proud of you. We didn't grow up in the same cult, but I moderared a survivor blog for many years so I know it's impossible to overestimate what it takes to fight through all the layers of horrible - both unique to the individual and unique to being a child of a cult environment - to not just survive but truly thrive. And I'm so thankful for all you've chosen to share.
I truly believe the most extraordinary thing a person can do with their life is to make the path easier for those who come after us. For many coming out of a cult, it takes everything just to reach a point of integration where the past is no longer as obvious to others as a battered wife's bruised face. And I understand that; I don't condemn it. Surviving is more than enough. But you made a path and shined a light so others can see more clearly too. That is truly honorable.
So I hope you continue to squeeze life for all its worth.
Every picture you posted had that same great smile and I think we all knew and were happy things were going very well. Just now, reading this, I was there. And I’ve never been to Paris or anywhere really. So if this one essay is you not knowing how to describe it, then I cannot wait for the next installment.
This letter is so beautiful! The photo of your book in the bookstore window, with a baguette in your pocket--ok, idk if it was still there, but I'm imagining it there, letting you remember the cafe--and the image of the man smoking with the snails in the stall . . . I can hear the noise and the clinking and I would never fucking eat that so kudos for you for doing the French dive in and just eat it thing . . . I am so happy you got asked about craft and how hard you worked to make everything sound like it just fell out, all perfect and moving because of the content and not the form . . . I am happy that the haircut did its job by the time that photo showed up . . . mostly I am honored that you shared all of this with us bc I have been wondering how it was going and I am so happy that you had such a marvelous time.
I love how satisfying this trip has been for you. So deserved. The picture of you with your editor tells the story.
And I love chicken livers. My mom would call me up and tell me she was making chicken livers and I would be at her house almost before she could hang up the phone. Never had them in a salad though. Now I know something I am going to try some day. As long as it is not smothered in Ranch dressing I don’t see how it could be anything but delicious.
Thanks for telling us about Paris. I really enjoyed reading about it.
I love Paris so much. I am not a romantic person and was warned that a solo trip would make me sad. Instead, it’s my very favorite place. I’m so glad you enjoyed it.
Love to read you, your writing voice makes me happy.
Biggest smile on your face says it all.
Your hair looks great! The bad cuts all worked out!
That's wonderful, Lauren. I've heard authors say how different it is there, we are respected for writing. It's not something the audience thinks they can do, if only they read the right blogs or take a course on LitReactor. I'm so glad you had a good time there. Maybe book 3, you write from a house boat on the Seine. Hear me out.
Your joy in that picture is so real it made me cry. You made it! You really did.
I know it's strange, but I am so damn proud of you. We didn't grow up in the same cult, but I moderared a survivor blog for many years so I know it's impossible to overestimate what it takes to fight through all the layers of horrible - both unique to the individual and unique to being a child of a cult environment - to not just survive but truly thrive. And I'm so thankful for all you've chosen to share.
I truly believe the most extraordinary thing a person can do with their life is to make the path easier for those who come after us. For many coming out of a cult, it takes everything just to reach a point of integration where the past is no longer as obvious to others as a battered wife's bruised face. And I understand that; I don't condemn it. Surviving is more than enough. But you made a path and shined a light so others can see more clearly too. That is truly honorable.
So I hope you continue to squeeze life for all its worth.
Every picture you posted had that same great smile and I think we all knew and were happy things were going very well. Just now, reading this, I was there. And I’ve never been to Paris or anywhere really. So if this one essay is you not knowing how to describe it, then I cannot wait for the next installment.
This letter is so beautiful! The photo of your book in the bookstore window, with a baguette in your pocket--ok, idk if it was still there, but I'm imagining it there, letting you remember the cafe--and the image of the man smoking with the snails in the stall . . . I can hear the noise and the clinking and I would never fucking eat that so kudos for you for doing the French dive in and just eat it thing . . . I am so happy you got asked about craft and how hard you worked to make everything sound like it just fell out, all perfect and moving because of the content and not the form . . . I am happy that the haircut did its job by the time that photo showed up . . . mostly I am honored that you shared all of this with us bc I have been wondering how it was going and I am so happy that you had such a marvelous time.
fuckin fantastic book cover.
I love every word of this.
Oh, I love all of this for you! I love Paris, too -- and I'm so glad this is the Paris you got. xx
never met a pigeon i didn't like
to eat
What a dream! An Emergency baguette! I love that the French audience was so genuinely curious...fascinating.
I love how satisfying this trip has been for you. So deserved. The picture of you with your editor tells the story.
And I love chicken livers. My mom would call me up and tell me she was making chicken livers and I would be at her house almost before she could hang up the phone. Never had them in a salad though. Now I know something I am going to try some day. As long as it is not smothered in Ranch dressing I don’t see how it could be anything but delicious.
Thanks for telling us about Paris. I really enjoyed reading about it.
I love Paris so much. I am not a romantic person and was warned that a solo trip would make me sad. Instead, it’s my very favorite place. I’m so glad you enjoyed it.
Love to read you, your writing voice makes me happy.
Stay weird Lauren, and thank you!
Your hair was perfect, thanks for your memory
What a beautiful experience. Also, you looked incredible.
Your joy shows on your face and in your words