The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry

by Gabrielle Zevin

Amelia the bright-sider believes it is better to be alone than to be with someone who doesn’t share your sensibilities and interests.

To an extent, I believe this, too, but unlike Amelia, I'm an introvert—solitude has never cost me very much. Still, I wrote THE STORIED LIFE OF A.J. FIKRY ten years ago, and the last two years have shown how much we, humans, crave togetherness. But perhaps, what's truly noble is figuring out how to make connections with those who don't share your sensibilities and interests. I don't think of myself as a person who is only friends with the like-minded, and yet, the truth is, I almost exclusively have friends who are like-minded. So, I toss it back to you: Is it better to be alone than to be with someone who doesn't share your sensibilities and interests?

Furthermore, she adores Humbert Humbert as a character while accepting the fact that she wouldn’t really want him for a life partner, a boyfriend, or even a casual acquaintance.

At the time, I was thinking a great deal about "unsympathetic characters" and how some of the most memorable literary characters are not people you would want to know. Humbert Humbert is a good example, for obvious reasons. Who are the book characters you love who you wouldn't want to know?

“Like,” he repeats with distaste. “How about I tell you what I don’t like? I do not like postmodernism, postapocalyptic settings, postmortem narrators, or magic realism.

This is the beginning of A.J.'s long list of the kind of books he dislikes. The joke, as longtime readers of mine will know, is that I have written novels that feature "postmodernism, postapocalyptic settings, postmortem narrators, magic realism" and many of the other things on A.J.'s list of dislikes. postmodernism: Margarettown, A.J. Fikry, Young Jane Young, the Anya Balanchine books, and my forthcoming book, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow (henceforth, Tomorrowx3) postapocalyptic settings: the Anya Balanchine books, briefly Tomorrowx3 postmortem narrators: Elsewhere, briefly Tomorrowx3 magic realism: Margarettown, Elsewhere, Young Jane Young, Tomorrowx3 It felt liberating to imagine this person who would despise so much of what I had written (and would continue to write!) My characters do not need to approve of or like me, or like the book that they find themselves in. I do not write novels to populate worlds with imaginary people who will validate me. Do you, like A.J., have lists of things you just won't read? I try not to make such lists, even in my mind, because the main thing I am interested in is great writing.

“I will also admit to an occasional weakness for short-story collections. Customers never want to buy them though.”

This is true. Short story collections are notoriously difficult to sell. It made economic sense to me that my bookseller, whose bookstore is struggling, would love stocking something no one wanted to buy.

They had only ever discussed books but what, in this life, is more personal than books?

I find it so intimate to tell people what I'm reading, and on some level, that makes Goodreads the most revealing of all social media platforms for me. I feel like a friendship has to be incredibly advanced for me to get to a place where I want to discuss books candidly. You're on Goodreads so I assume this isn't your problem, but do you ever feel a shyness when speaking about books?

I’ve read all your books, but I like this one the best.

Like Daniel Parish, I have had this happen a fair amount over the years. A reader will come to an event or write me an e-mail, and they will proceed to tell me why one of my books is their favorite "by far." Sometimes, they apologize for not liking all of my books equally. However, we are in agreement: I, too, do not like all of my books equally. When it first started happening, it used to bother me more than it does now. Seventeen years since my first novel was published, I am just glad if any one of my books has truly resonated with a reader.

Despite the fact that he loves books and owns a bookstore, A.J. does not particularly care for writers. He finds them to be unkempt, narcissistic, silly, and generally unpleasant people. He tries to avoid meeting the ones who’ve written books he loves for fear that they will ruin their books for him. Luckily, he does not love Daniel’s books, not even the popular first novel.

To begin, I hope you'll come see me on book tour this summer! That said, I understand the impulse to not want to meet the writer of a book you love. In a way, the writer as a person has less to do with the experience of reading a book than one might imagine. An example: I once met a writer whose books I really liked. The writer innocently complimented the hat I was wearing, and something about the way this person complimented my hat felt patronizing to me. I experienced this exchange as shameful. Despite the fact that I know it is probably an imagined insult (I definitely pick imaginary fights all the time), I have never felt a desire to pick up any of this writer's books since.

Remember, Maya: the things we respond to at twenty are not necessarily the same things we will respond to at forty and vice versa. This is true in books and also in life.

Mostly, the books I loved at twenty I still love at forty. However, now that I am in my forties, I find I have a great deal more patience with certain kinds of books than I did at twenty. If I've changed as a reader over the years, it's perhaps that I have less of a desire to be entertained and more of a desire to find books that expand my understanding of writing or the world in general. I am also less amused by cynical things and people than I once was — it takes neither great imagination nor intellect to conclude that the world is terrible. But I digress. How have you changed as a reader in your lifetime?

In April, The Paris Wife. In June, A Reliable Wife. In August, American Wife. In September, The Time Traveler’s Wife. In December, he runs out of decent books with wife in the title. They read Bel Canto.

The reading list of A.J.'s book club for moms. At some point in the 00s, I was told that the presence of the word "wife" in a title improved a book's sales. And then in the '10s, when the power of "wife" faded, the word "girl" (post "Gone Girl") became the go-to word for book titles. At some point, "girl" was replaced by "woman" and so it goes. Are there particular words in a title that incline (or disincline) you to read a book?

Once, someone had asked A.J. if Maya was his. “You’re both black but not the same kind of black.” Maya remembers this because the remark had made A.J. use a tone of voice she had never heard him use with a customer. “What is the same kind of black?” A.J. had asked. “No, I didn’t mean to offend you,” the person had said and then the flip flops had backed their way to the door, leaving without making a purchase. What is “the same kind of black”? She looks at her hands and wonders.

There are a handful of explicit references to race in The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry. I am a biracial East Asian American. A.J. Fikry is a biracial Southeast Asian American. Maya is a biracial African American. The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry is not about race except insofar as everything I write is from the POV of a biracial person. And indeed, so much of A.J.'s alienation and his retreat into novels stems from feeling separate from the people around him. I am the same as A.J. in this respect. Is this race, or is this just A.J.'s nature? Am I an introvert because of the way people respond to me as a POC, or would I have been an introvert even if I were not a POC? The customer is being curious, if awkward, when she phrases the question that way. She's trying to say, "You don't look related, but clearly this little girl is behaving as if you are her father -- so what exactly is your relation?" The customer doesn't necessarily have bad intentions, but A.J. takes the question and its phrasing to be racist, intrusive, and offensive. He takes it to mean, "You two don't look like you belong together." As a biracial person, I have spent much of my life being asked the question WHAT ARE YOU, and so I am quite familiar with the many ways this question can be put.

But jackets are the redheaded stepchildren of book publishing. We blame them for everything.”

This is true. When a book "fails to perform," the finger is invariably pointed at the jacket. Sometimes, of course, a book's underperformance has nothing to do with the jacket: a book can fail because of bad timing, the marketplace's whims, the publisher's enthusiasm for it (or the publisher's greater enthusiasm for another title on the same list), the book itself, etc., etc. But the jacket, publishers can control. And so we beat on, blaming the jacket. Maybe it's hopeful to blame the jacket, in a way. Any book might be a bestseller if only we could just find the right outfit for her to wear. The flipside of this is that I rarely think a book succeeds because of a great jacket... And I also think people sometimes say that a book has a great jacket BECAUSE the book was successful, and not because the jacket was particularly great. What are your favorite jackets, and why?

“Every word the right one and exactly where it should be. That’s basically the highest compliment I can give.

This observation says a lot about what A.J. Fikry likes, and it reflects my aspirations for A.J. FIKRY the novel. I wanted the book to feel perfectly plotted and efficient, with few wasted words. However, I also appreciate (and sometimes write) books that are emotionally messy, risky if imperfect, and expansive.

“This wouldn’t be a restaurant per se, but I always wanted to try the Turkish Delight in Narnia. When I read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe as a boy, I used to think that Turkish Delight must be incredibly delicious if it made Edmund betray his family,” A.J. says. “I guess I must have told my wife this, because one year Nic gets a box for me for the holidays. And it turned out to be this powdery, gummy candy. I don’t think I’ve ever been so disappointed in my entire life.”

I had this experience with Turkish Delight -- like A.J., I remember thinking, Edmund in Narnia betrays his whole family for Turkish Delight, and it's this? Serious question: is there some other Turkish Delight out there that's amazing? Have I just encountered the wrong Turkish Delight? I apparently have given people a "Turkish Delight" type experience, too. I once wrote a book that featured the Beatles' White Album, and a young woman at a book festival told me she had listened to the White Album because of the book, and I said, "Did you love it?" And she smiled politely, and said, "It was okay." Have you ever read about something in a book that sounded amazing, but when you encountered it in real life, it was disappointing?

“It is the secret fear that we are unlovable that isolates us,” the passage goes, “but it is only because we are isolated that we think we are unlovable. Someday, you do not know when, you will be driving down a road. And someday, you do not know when, he, or indeed she, will be there. You will be loved because for the first time in your life, you will truly not be alone. You will have chosen to not be alone.”

The passage from The Late Bloomer that Leonora Ferris reads at the wedding. An extended version of this passage appear in my first novel, Margarettown, which, like the The Late Bloomer, was a commercial failure.

(Is a twist less satisfying if you know it’s coming? Is a twist that you can’t predict symptomatic of bad construction? These are things to consider when writing.)

I have feelings about twists. For example, a good twist is not when an author has withheld information from you that should otherwise have been revealed. And sometimes, as A.J. writes, if something is well constructed, you should in fact be able to predict its ending. There can be a satisfaction to the inevitable. Do you have thoughts about twists?

In the first chapter of Daniel’s famous first novel, the main character is in a catastrophic car accident. Daniel had struggled with the section, because it occurred to him that everything he knew about horrible car accidents had come from books he’d read and movies he’d seen. The description he finally settled on, after what must have been fifty passes, never much satisfied him.

I have a well-developed phobia of dying in a car accident, and I imagine that's why I have written catastrophic car accidents into at least half of my books. There are two car accidents in A.J. Fikry. Every time I write a car accident, I, like Daniel, struggle with avoiding cliche.

If you’re stuck, reading helps: “The Beauties” by Anton Chekhov, “The Doll’s House” by Katherine Mansfield, “A Perfect Day for Bananafish” by J. D. Salinger, “Brownies” or “Drinking Coffee Elsewhere” both by ZZ Packer, “In the Cemetery Where Al Jolson Is Buried” by Amy Hempel, “Fat” by Raymond Carver, “Indian Camp” by Ernest Hemingway.

These stories are some of my favorites. For collections, I would add, Bobcat, by Rebecca Lee, Love Stories in this Town, by Amanda Eyre Ward, Exhalation, by Ted Chiang, and a dozen other collections that I'm forgetting. I enjoy reading short stories, but I never write them. As a writer, I think I am more suited to the canvas of a novel. I do sometimes read to "unstick" myself when I'm writing. It is useful to see how other writers have solved problems.

“What kind of cop are you?” Ismay asks. “The old kind,” he says.

With Lambiase, I wanted to write someone who A.J. would never have made friends with if not for Maya and the bookstore. On the surface, Lambiase is the opposite of A.J. The better a reader Lambiase becomes, the worse he is at being a cop. Cop Lambiase sees the world in binaries (good/evil, right/wrong, etc.); Reader Lambiase begins to see the world and the people in it as complicated and nuanced.

Why is any one book different from any other book? They are different, A.J. decides, because they are. We have to look inside many. We have to believe. We agree to be disappointed sometimes so that we can be exhilarated every now and again.

Occasionally, I will read an article with an elder statesman author, and he will say proudly that he doesn't read any NEW FICTION, except perhaps one or two books by his other elder statesman friends. I find this to be a ridiculous stance. If you no longer wish to read new fiction, you should probably stop writing books.

In the end, we are collected works. He has read enough to know there are no collections where each story is perfect. Some hits. Some misses. If you’re lucky, a standout. And in the end, people only really remember the standouts anyway, and they don’t remember those for very long.

The original title of the book was THE COLLECTED WORKS OF A.J. FIKRY, but my American publisher worried that booksellers wouldn't know where to shelve the book -- they feared it would seem like a short story collection by A.J. Fikry, and not a novel about him, by Gabrielle Zevin. I was prevailed upon to change the title. This part of the book, though, is the crux of the novel for me, and it is as much about me as anything in the book is about me. To publish books across many years, as I have, is to have absolute proof of all the times I've failed, all the times I've been wrong. (Or, if not wrong, just all the ways I don't feel the same as the twenty-five year old who wrote that first novel.) My tenth novel, TOMORROW, AND TOMORROW, AND TOMORROW, will be published in July 2022. Like A.J. FIKRY, it's about storytelling, the lies we tell about ourselves, the difficulty of expressing love, the heartbreaking brevity of human lives, the struggle to connect, and video games. The title of the book derives from Macbeth's act five soliloquy, which is one of the bleakest soliloquies in all of Shakespeare. Strangely, the character who invokes it in my novel fines great hope in it--the idea that every day we are alive is a chance to start again--and also a metaphor for video games: “What is a game?” Marx said. “It’s tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow. It’s the possibility of infinite rebirth, infinite redemption. The idea that if you keep playing, you could win. No loss is permanent, because nothing is permanent, ever.” In a way, this is a cousin to A.J.'s idea of "collected works." One last thing I'd want you to know about the new book -- video games are really just another form of storytelling, and if you understand that, it's quite easy to make the connection between A.J. Fikry and the characters of TOMORROW. You can find TOMORROW, AND TOMORROW, AND TOMORROW on Goodreads here: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58784475-tomorrow-and-tomorrow-and-tomorrow Thanks for reading these notes! It has been fun to go through A.J. Fikry again after all of these years. Enough time has passed so the book almost feels like it was written by a stranger! P.S. I actually wrote many more notes, but I had to cut them down. Apparently, ten to twenty is the optimal number of notes!