Hello from Paris! It’s been a wonderful two weeks here so far. (I’m here for another two weeks.) I’m trying to take a little bite out of Paris every day without neglecting the work I need to do. The result has been a series of perfect days. With a few caveats. (I don’t ever want to make my life sound Instagram-perfect.)
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How Does a Perfect Day in Paris Begin?
For me, the best days begin the same way it they do anywhere—with a cup of tea (more on tea in Paris below), an egg and toast, and my computer. Notice I didn’t say anything about checking email or the news or anything else online. This is crucial. My head has to remain clear to re-enter my novel every morning.
Even though I’m in a new environment—or perhaps because of it—I’ve found myself open to experimenting with a new point of view. And I’m finding my protagonist open up on the page in ways she hasn’t so far.
My advisor asked in our last meeting, ‘Have you thought about trying first person?’ And I said, ‘Yes, and I’ve decided against it.’ End of discussion.
I’m writing about a real person—the writer Kay Boyle—and I couldn’t imagine trying to adopt her voice. It felt wrong, like a presumption or an invasion, even. And, frankly, I haven’t seen it well done in other novels I’ve picked up recently. Too much telling—like the writer has digested the person’s biography and just told it in the first person—and not nearly enough showing.
Also, my big read of the summer has been the Wolf Hall trilogy, and Hillary Mantel’s way of bringing us close to Cromwell without getting too close seems just right.
But something has been missing in my own writing. I haven’t been able to get close enough to Kay. She hasn’t felt alive on the page. So Monday, the day before I was set to turn in my last submission to my advisor—the last time I’ll get any feedback on my MA course—I decided to give first person a try. I haven’t done any first-person fiction writing on the course. It was now or never.
So that day I spent most of it writing, and on Tuesday as well. Then I turned in the last 3000 words I’ll be able to submit, before finishing my 15,000-word dissertation on my own. (I’ve turned in 9,000 words total, most of which needs significant revision.) Yesterday, I had an email from my advisor. She had read it already and the feedback was a clear yes, this is working. Hallelujah!
There is still much to do to deepen the first-person perspective and voice, but I feel like, with some other big changes I’ve implemented recently, that I finally have a solid sense of what my novel is and how I will execute it. That may change, but after a lot of experimentation and trial and error, I’m (somewhat) confidently in the driver’s seat—driving on the right road, in the right lane, although there may be some big turns still down the road.
What a Perfect Paris Afternoon Looks Like (For Me)
Most days, I can work until about lunchtime, and then my brain is fried for the day. But my body is raring to go. And Paris is the perfect place to let it explore. Back in Manchester or up in Scotland, I might go for a walk and do some shopping. But in Paris, these activities, and others, take on a new glow.
I should add that I’m here with my daughter, who is also in project mode. She is on a fellowship this summer, which includes doing some research in Paris. Most mornings, she has been writing or heading out to the libraries. And by mid-afternoon, she is ready to head out or meet up, so often we hang out together, which makes exploring Paris even more magical!
One day, we went straight to La Grande Épicerie de Paris at Le Bon Marché, my favorite food shopping experience anywhere. We started in my favorite section—the tea—smelling every blend and picking out two each to buy. I also picked up a box of P&G Tips, because the tea in French supermarkets is as bad as in the US—too weak and boring—even when the label claims it is “intense.” (I’ve grown too used to the strong tea in the UK). Then we wound our way through the rest of the store, which is a fabulous way to spend an hour or two.
From there, we stopped for an éclair, visited two beautiful stationary stores, and met up with a friend of mine, the writer Heather Hartley, at a café for aperitif, before having a casual Lebanese dinner on a terrace as the sun finally started to go down.
Another day, we went to the Marais. First, to one of my daughter’s favorite bookstores, La Mouette Rieuse (which means Black-Headed Seagull), and then her favorite tea salon, Le Loir dans La Théière (The Door Mouse in the Teapot), where we had the most incredible lemon meringue pie. The meringue was creamy and sweet, unlike any I’ve ever tasted. We also had a blast wandering all over the store Søstrene Grene, and ended up for dinner at a bistro on the Place Sainte-Catherine.
Has Everything in Paris Been Perfect?
No. Although I’m having an amazing time, I hate giving the impression that everything is perfect. Life never is. And over these past (almost three) years of traveling and living abroad, I’ve also just been living—and encountering obstacles, discomforts, and setbacks like anyone else. These weeks in Paris have been no different.
Our apartment in the 19th arrondissement is in a great location, right near the beautiful Buttes-Chaumont park.
But the apartment itself is not everything we hoped. We chose it for its very reasonable price and decent size for Paris. But there are some aspects of it that we missed in the reviews. There is no wifi. And it smells. There is a persistent musty odor emanating from the bathroom and throughout the house. It has seeped into the towels and the bedding, both of which are pretty old and shabby. A candle has helped, thankfully. And I’ve found a delightful coworking café where I can get my wifi needs met.
Then there are the perils of travel in an older body. Between all the walking (I never walk so much as I do in Paris!) and standing at exhibitions and shops, my feet began to swell. One day after an hour or two at the Musée Maillol and visiting various stores in Les Halles, I began to have terrible pains. I could hardly walk. Getting home via two metro lines was agonizing.
Thank God for French pharmacies! The one just around the block from us had a whole room in the back devoted to compression socks. I was measured and invited to try on two pairs until I found the ones just right for me. As my daughter said, that is so French!
The new socks are helping, even if they aren’t exactly a fashion statement. But the weather has been cool (highs in the 70s), for which I’m eternally grateful.
Lastly, a spot has opened up on the writing retreat I’m co-leading with Cummari in Sicily this October 8-12. Learn more here: https://www.cummari.com/writing-retreat. It would be amazing to have you there!
Now I’d love to hear what you are up to this summer!
Where are your travels taking you?
What new things are you trying?
What challenges are you facing?
You know that I love hearing from you. And it’s so great to see you all connecting in the comments as well. That is the magic of our community here. (As I said in a recent Note on Substack, I’m not here for the platform, which is evolving and will continue to do so. I here for the connections we’re making!)
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Your adventures are close "to perfect" I so enjoy your shared stories!! I'm invigorated and enjoy being an armchair traveler! I visited Paris in my younger years & it was one of my favorites. Although it was quite some time ago, the memories are still fresh in my mind!
We spent 4 days in Rome and 8 days in Tuscany. An amazing adventure even in the unrelenting heat. The best part of the trip was experiencing the spontaneous kindness of people from 19 countries and 10 US states. It reaffirmed our faith in the goodness of people no matter the language, the culture, the age. Just when we needed help, someone offered. At 79 and 81, we were most grateful. Warm smiles. Friendly nods. Helping hands. Cherished interactions stored in my Italy memory box.