NYC Limbo

Hello from NYC! The kids and I are visiting friends and family here on our way home to Maine. I can’t believe I’m back in the USA. As for culture shock, Manhattan couldn’t be more different than Oxford. My son summed it up as we walked through Times Square, “Nothing’s older than 400 years.”













We stopped and stared up at the sky-scrapers. The sun was shining. Traffic was honking. Lights were flashing, and people were shouting. If I hadn’t grown up in NYC, it would have been an assault upon my senses. This is home, and yet it feels foreign.

Why are strangers saying “hi!” to me and smiling? When people bump into to me, they don’t apologize. Cars and buildings are super-sized. Food comes in portions too large to finish. I needed the ice cubes in the drinking water. The temperature is in the 90’s today.

Yesterday I met my old school friends for lunch at Cipriani Dolci in Grand Central Station. The food was good if not great. The train station setting was fun. The iced cappuccinos were perfect as was the company. I felt very welcomed home. The prices only made me smile when I converted the dollars into pounds.

Perhaps that was how I managed to overcome my sticker shock and buy a digital SLR camera. I have a backlog of paintings to add to my website, but my circa 1985 Nikon SLR isn’t working. I miss the manual control of an SLR. I like to pick my aperture and even prefer focusing myself. Scanning slides for my portfolio costs money too.

My son and I headed to the photography mecca. B&H Photo is near the Empire State Building. It’s enormous and quite the New York experience. Many of the salespeople are Hasidic Jews, and they all know from cameras. You can research and buy a camera on line, but at that price I wanted a test drive and expert advice.

I had originally planned to buy the Canon Rebel XSi as it gets top reviews, but the NikonD80 can take my old Nikon lenses (in manual,) and it’s more of a professional grade camera. You couldn’t go wrong with either camera, assuming you would really use the manual features of an SLR.

For most people, I’d recommend my point-and-shoot Canon Elph. It’s small, versatile and affordable. The image stabilizer allows for nice indoor shots without flash or a tripod. I’ve taken all my blog photos to date with it, and I’m sure I’ll continue to use it for every day blogging. I won’t have my new SLR camera until I get back to Maine Friday as I shipped it to avoid sales tax.

To reach B&H Photo, my son and I walked downtown through Central Park. It was our first day in NYC. There was a light breeze and low humidity with temperatures in the mid 80’s. Summer at long last!

Back in England, people still had the heat turned on, and the rain was relentless. Everyone said it was the worst summer ever. I reminded them of last summer with all the flooding, to which the reply was that was very unusual. Yeah, right. We did at least have a gorgeous last day in England. We took the dogs for a favorite walk “between the fields.”

The landscape was bucolic English, but the wheat against the bright blue sky made me think of the American Midwest and the novel I’m reading now.



Jane Smiley’s A Thousand Acres is set on a farm in Iowa. The story is Shakespeare’s King Lear. Many have called this Pulitzer Prize winner a “Great American Novel.” I loved Smiley’s Moo, which poked fun at academia.

A Thousand Acres is more serious and beautifully written. The characters are quintessentially American. They are ambitious, hard working and tied to their land and family. The farmers might be parochial, but they are far from simple.

I’m enjoying the novel so much, I bought another copy for my parents as a visiting gift (I’m staying with them in NYC .) I also bought them Ellis Avery’s The Teahouse Fire set in 19th century Japan which I reviewed in April.

On my mother’s recommendation, my son and I went to see the Louise Bourgeois exhibit at the Guggenheim Museum. Bourgeois’s installations worked so well in that space. I preferred her earlier work, especially the skinny sculptures. Giacometti worked in a similar way only he got the recognition that would never go to a woman. Understandably much of Bourgeois’s work challenged the notion that women were only housewives and sexual objects. She’s still working now in her 90’s. NYC has such amazing art.

It is wonderful to be back home, but I’m already missing England. Somehow we didn’t realize that we had grown roots until it was time to yank them out. My children had been counting the weeks but then felt sad to go, just when they’d finally been accepted into their new schools and made new friends.

Even our dog, Stella, was anxious about the move. She crawled into suitcases, terrified we’d leave her behind. Rest assured, we even remembered her lamby. Her crate had more legroom than we had on the plane.

Henry flew to Boston with Stella Tuesday and then drove to Maine. American Airlines only charges $90 to fly a dog to the USA, but you need to produce a vet certified well-pet certificate (NOT mentioned on the AA website.) It’s odd to think of them home without us.


Our last few days in Oxford were full of ups and downs. Literally, ups and downs. I let Stella out into the garden one night and left the door open while I ran my bath. Henry came home later that night to find the house hopping with baby frogs. He caught and released 20 of them. I wasn't much help because I was laughing too hard. Henry was very good natured about the whole debacle.

On our second to last night, we stayed with my in-laws in their wisteria covered home. The cousins raced around and had a brilliant time. We donned thick fleeces to have a barbecue outside until it rained. At least we got to see a double rainbow. Our parting was bitter sweet.

For our last night in England, we stayed with friends in Cambridge to be near Stansted Airport. My father called from NYC. He couldn’t find our flight number on line. When he called American Airlines, they told him that AA no longer flew out of Stansted. We had printed out our flight info the day before without problem. I called to reconfirm.

AA had cancelled our flight, and said they had called our home phone in the USA! Can you believe it? Our last flight change in May, they had e-mailed, so why not this time? We had to wake up before 4am to drive back to Heathrow. Still, it was worth it to say goodbye to our friends. Talk about a stressful departure.

I’ve needed the time in NYC to recover. Jet lag is much worse when you’ve lived abroad for a year, and the transition back to “normal” life isn’t easy. It’s a relief to be looked after by my parents in a familiar setting.

Plus I’ve had some comic relief. Here’s an oxymoron my son noticed on the West Side:

Only in NYC would you need to insult the customer to sell produce:

Actually the Turkish shop owners were very friendly and the fruit was excellent. Perhaps something was lost in translation.

This morning I relaxed, taking a walk along the East River. Do you recognize the bridges from my opening shot? Tomorrow we’ll cross back over the Triborough Bridge on our way to the airport.

Poor Henry is already back in Maine unpacking boxes and getting us connected to the internet so I can keep blogging. You may have noticed that I posted twice today. If not, check out Oxford Index for a trip down memory lane. Once I resume work on my novel NOT CRICKET, I’ll need to refer back to my Oxford sabbatical posts, and the archives are hard to navigate.

Another expat American blogger, Just A Plane Ride Away, came up with the best solution to my dilemma. She created a blog page to index her vacation to Germany and Austria. JAPRA, I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your brilliant idea. Check out her blog and other expat bloggers on my sidebar. I guess I’m not an expat blogger anymore….

It’s only been 3 days since I left England, and already it feels like a dream. Henry just e-mailed to say our boxes arrived (in 6 days!) and the internet is reconnected. We’re meeting friends at the beach on Sunday. Home!

Expat Tips for Sabbatical in England

Here are the 10 things I wish I’d known before my family's sabbatical at Oxford. This is actually the fifth time I’ve lived in the UK, as my husband is English. Henry teaches at Bowdoin College in Maine USA. He had 2 Oxford University fellowships: The Nissan Institute and The Reuters Institute. He is writing a book on public television in the UK, USA and Japan.

I used the sabbatical to research a novel, NOT CRICKET, set at Oxford University. It all started with Uprooting to England. Click on the "Oxford Sabbatical" label at the end of the post to view the whole year. I’ll post once more from Oxford next week, and then I will continue blogging in Maine.

Tower Bridge, London from 2004

1. How long should we go? Last time my family moved to England it was for 6 months in London, and this time we came for 11 months in Oxford. I’d definitely recommend coming for the whole year if you can. It will be easier to rent out your house back home and to find accommodation abroad. It will be less disruptive to your children’s education. Most importantly, you will make more friends. People will make more effort getting to know you and you’ll make more effort too if you’re there longer.

On the 6 month stay, I felt as soon as we were settled, it was time to go back home. The move itself is very disruptive. It’s worse than a permanent move because you will have to maintain 2 households. During the year, you may have tenant or property issues to deal with back home complicated by time zones. The disruption was the biggest downside of a sabbatical. Read more about timing in the school section below.

Swans on Wolvercote Common: I counted over 40 on my last walk in adjacent Port Meadow. I'll be posting cygnet photos next week.

2. How do we find a place to live? The best site is sabbaticalhomes.com. It’s set up for the academic community for home exchanges and short-term rentals. It might even help you find a tenant for your house back home. Of course I heard about it after I was living in Oxford.

We found our perfect Wolvercote house through the Oxford University Gazette in March. Most listings go up in June/July. If you are connected with a university or living near one, check their paper for listings. It’s usually nicer living in someone’s home than in a professionally set up rental, and the price might be lower too.

Jericho townhouses are convenient to the Oxford City Center.

3. Where’s the best place to live in Oxford? If you have a family, I’d recommend Summertown as there are good shops in walking distance; the city center is in easy biking distance, and it’s well served by the bus lines. Your elementary school child is most likely to be placed at Cutteslowe which is close by. There’s a community sports center with an okay lap pool. There’s also a private but expensive sports club, Esporta.

On street parking is tight, but you won’t need a car in Summertown. Buy a "second hand" bike. Summertown Cycles has some, but it’s hard to find used ones for kids. Oxford is a biking town with bike lanes going into the center. However, there are no bus routes or bike lanes going across Oxford, so pay careful attention to your location. The downside would be no great pubs in Summertown, and it’s not especially scenic.

Another option is Jericho which is more charming and right by the city center. There are restaurants and some shops. It’s by the Oxford Canal, nice for a walk. It would be a good choice for a couple without kids or dog.

We chose to live in Wolvercote, a small village in the northern edge of Oxford. Wolvercote is the place to live if you have a dog, and it’s a green community with lots of families. We had on-street parking for our (used) car, and the #6 bus goes every 15 minutes to the center and only takes 15 minutes. I loved our location.

The downside about Wolvercote was that 3 miles was kind of far to bike into the center, and the local Wolvercote School was full. We were stuck walking our 10-year-old daughter 3 miles round trip to get her to school. My husband took the morning shift, and I the afternoon, but on some days I had to do both and walk 6 miles. I got very fit! It’s the European way to get exercise just getting places as opposed to driving in a car to work out.

One more cost to include in your calculations is you'll have to pay the council tax (ie poll tax) even if you aren't a Brit. We paid £1,400 for the year! Good news is you're also entitled, as a resident, to the National Health Service. Register when you arrive. We were happy with the Jericho Health Center. You don't have to go to the closest practice. Be sure to choose one that is open full hours.

Abingdon School Chapel: the boys attend weekly Anglican services. Both state and public schools study multi-religions as a required subject.

4. Where should the kids go to school? This may be your biggest headache. English state schools (ie public schools in American) will not automatically accept your kids, and most have crowding issues. Class sizes are large – up to 30 in a class and often one more. Oxford requires a signed tenant agreement (lease.) They have to provide children a spot only if you are resident for six months.

Due to school choice, you are not guaranteed a spot in a local school, and your kids won’t necessarily end up at the same schools. There are no school buses so you are responsible for your kid’s transportation unless it is over 3 miles one way (Oxford.) The school system is riddled with inequity.

In London we weren’t even allowed to apply until we were physically resident. Since we were moving in the middle of the year and wanted them at the same elementary school, we sent our kids (then 6 and 9) to a prep school instead. A prep school is a private primary school, usually up to age 11 or 13.

Many Americans in London send their kids to The American School. When we lived in London, we sent our kids to The Abercorn School which was mostly English but had a lot of international students with many Americans. It had an English curriculum and high academic standards. I’ve heard good things about The American School, and it certainly makes for an easier transition on both sides. Still, we were happy to send our kids to an English school for the full experience. Abercorn also cost less than The American School.

It’s confusing: many private secondary schools are called "public schools" in the UK. Some public schools provide scholarships but many require an entrance exam the spring before you go. When we were told that Cherwell, the state school in Oxford, was too full to accept our thirteen-year-old son, we sent him to The Abingdon School. You can read more about it in Public School Dayboy. It's his last day of school today. Our daughter's state school runs until July 23rd! There are more vacations over the school year.

Another factor you should consider is the age of your children. The demands on young children are much higher in the UK. A six-year-old is expected to be reading chapter books and memorizing times tables. Americans do catch up in the later elementary school years. Academically the differences increase as English schools get very specialized and tracked in the final years. It would be much easier for your high school student to attend The American School or an international school than to study for English A-levels that are in only a few chosen subjects.


My husband in his Oriel College boating club blazer.

5. What should we ship vs. buy? Everything is cheaper in the US, so it’s worth anticipating your needs and shipping stuff over. This year things cost the same number of dollars as pounds so life was twice as expensive. Plus my husband's grants were in dollars.

If you want to price compare items between the US and UK, check Argos on line. There’s a branch in Oxford center and others all over England. It’s a discount chain where you order from an in-store catalogue or on line. There are other "superstores" outside Oxford, but you won’t find the bargains or selection that you’re used to in the US. Boswells in Oxford Center will provide most of your household needs. You can find and get rid of stuff for free through freecycle.

The climate, no matter what time of year, is pretty consistent. Pack for 50’s and light rain. It can get up to the 70’s (rarely 80’s) in the summer, and it might occasionally snow or frost in winter. You’ll need wellies (rubber boots) for country walks, but you can find them here for not too much. I’d recommend bringing a good, light weight raincoat or you can buy a “pack a mac” here.

At Oxford there are many black tie or jacket and tie events. A dark suit is fine for all events for men (no real need for the tux.) You will get invited to more things at the beginning and end of the academic year than in the middle. Sensible dress shoes for women are a must as you will be walking on cobblestones and up slippery stone steps, possibly even on rooftops!

Shipping home is a headache. The Royal Mail no longer ships by boat and is expensive by air. The cheapest convenient option was Mail Boxes Etc, which has a branch in Summertown and many all over the USA. It’s about £3 per kg with a 17% fuel surcharge. Shipping from the US is much cheaper.

The airing cupboard can be in the bathroom, hall or kitchen. Our drying space is unusually small since the tank is extra big.

6. What’s different in the household? Your flat (as apartments are called in England) will probably have no dryer or an all in one unit that will not do much more than steam your clothes. You might have a clothesline, but it rains more days than not. Most people hang clothes on radiators or off furniture. Damp clothes are put in the airing cupboard. This is a cupboard around your hot water heater with wooden slats designed for drying clothes.

Another option, if you have space, is to buy a condenser dryer for about £200. Every 3 loads or so you empty out the water collected in the tank. It takes longer than a vented dryer, but it does the job.

I like Ariel Biological detergent. Buy Calgon limescale protection tablets to soften up the water. Then you can use half the recommended detergent. The washing machines tend to work well at spinning off excess water so clothes dry faster but also wear out faster.

Due to hard water, you have to add a special salt to your dishwasher occasionally. You’ll see limescale in the machine and on your glasses if you don’t. Be sure to get a toilet cleaner that’s tough on limescale. Andrex toilet paper is softest.

Your fridge and freezer will probably be small by American standards. You can order groceries on the internet and have them delivered for free (if you spend over £50) from Sainsbury's.

None of your recipes will work in the UK without conversion. All English products are in grams of weight whereas American recipes are by oz volume. You won’t find American shortening for baking. Use caster sugar for baking and a little less butter than you would usually since the butter is creamier. Baking soda is called bicarbonate of soda and most Brits don’t use it.

Your heat and hot water will probably be on a timer. You can reprogram it, but you probably won’t need heat at night as it rarely gets below freezing. Expect a small hot water tank and not much water pressure unless you are lucky (we were.) Most English people prefer baths and have nice deep and long ones. English homes tend to be cool and damp so bring layers to wear inside.

My English home office where I started writing NOT CRICKET.

7. How do I set up a home office and stay connected to the US? The good news is there are Staples in England, including one in Oxford center, but the bad news is that everything costs twice as much. Worst of all, standard computer paper is a slightly different size – a bit longer and narrower. Shipping a large document, like a novel manuscript, is expensive. I needed to send manuscripts to readers and my agent in the USA. There were postal strikes going on last fall.

The best solution was to e-mail my manuscript as a US formatted PDF to FedEx Kinko’s and have them print it. I found a branch a few blocks away from my agent, and the courier service ($15) was cheaper than a fed ex. My agent’s assistant picked up my manuscripts the first couple of times [thanks, Marika!]

We chose BT for a cable wireless hub, but it is slower than what we had back home and has to be reset weekly to discharge static electricity. It comes with a broadband phone which allows us to make inexpensive calls at any time to the USA. The reception is not as good as our land line. A cheaper option is Skype, but the reception is poor and requires a camera in both computers to get the full service.

It took BT several weeks to get us connected to the internet, and my husband spent many hours (not exaggerating) on phone queues (on hold) and was often disconnected. The UK is not a service economy. Call lines are understaffed and often out-sourced. This drove us completely crazy and ruined the first couple of weeks. Does anyone know a better option than BT? If so, please comment.

Free WiFi is hard to find. There are a few places where you can pay 70p for a half an hour to use ancient computers. Read my first Oxford post.

Mobile phones are inexpensive and plentiful. Best to get a pay as you go with a cheap US calls plan. We did ours through carphone warehouse. You can buy a separate card to use in the rest of Europe.

Blogging is a great way to stay in touch with family and friends and to create a record of your adventure. If you want privacy, you can have your blog password protected and unlisted. You can set up a free google blog in minutes.

The downside of blogging was that it will distract you from work (that’s why I only post weekly) and your friends and family probably won’t post comments on your blog. They get your news without you getting theirs so you’ll feel disconnected. It’s still the best way to update people without repeating yourself endlessly.

My writers' group: standing L and R Miranda Glover and Rachel Nkere-Uwem Jackson; seated L to R Jennie Walmsley, Sarah Laurence (me), Anne Tuite-Dalton and Lucy Cavendish. Alexa Wilson is in the group too. I'm missing you guys already! Photo by Miranda's husband.

8. How do I meet people? It can be challenging to make friends in England. The country is smaller so people are used to keeping their old friends and won’t empathize as readily with your situation. The English are more reserved than Americans so don’t take a cool first reaction personally.

Look for groups of people who share your interests. Your local community center or library may have classes or book groups. The church would have a choir. Choosing a local state school is a good way to meet other parents. I joined a writers' group after meeting another author at a party.

Join the Oxford Newcomers’ Club. It’s mostly women but open to any spouse or partner of someone who is working/studying/on sabbatical at Oxford. Oxford is not an open university and access is very limited. Through Newcomers you will go on special tours. Some are free and others cost a few pounds. They even have a book group. If you aren’t at Oxford, check to see if the university has a similar program. Cambridge University does.

Our golden retriever loved Port Meadow, so did we. Wellies required!

9. Should I bring my dog/cat/ferret? England recently introduced the pet travel scheme so you don’t have to put your pet in 6 months quarantine. You have to start the paperwork and tests six months before you depart. It’s really complicated and expensive. You also have to get a final check within 2 days of departing the US.

BA is the only airline that you can ship your pet to England, but you don’t need to accompany your pet. You have to buy a huge crate to fit their requirements. The crate for my golden retriever was big enough for a Shetland pony, and her airfare was over a thousand dollars! To return, she can go on American for much less, but we have to buy a smaller crate as the minimum size crate for BA was larger than the maximum size for American Airlines.

We chose to live in Wolvercote because Port Meadow is the best place to walk and swim your dog off lead (leash.) Here’s a virtual dog walk post. Hill’s Science Diet Pet Food is readily available in both countries so switch your pet over before you leave. We were very happy with our Parkwood Veterinary Group.

Despite the hassle and the cost, I’m glad we brought our dog. Home is not home without her. I’ve also met people through my dog. England is very dog friendly. It’s easier to find a rental open to pets here than in the US. Dogs are welcome on Oxford buses. There are even special dog gates on country walks. Having a dog in London, however, would be difficult.

Hot air balloon over Lincoln College, Oxford. Bon voyage!

10. Was it worth it? Yes! We had a wonderful time, and I collected fabulous material for my novel, NOT CRICKET. Living abroad is much more satisfying and personal than traveling as a tourist or for work. If you have a family, this will be a broadening and educational experience your children will never forget. Even the hardships will pull you closer together. A sabbatical is the ultimate bonding experience. Plus it was fun!

More Oxford Info:
Oxfordshire County Council for state schools
NHS for medical services
Best Lunch and Tea in Oxford
Best Pubs in Oxford
Fine Dining in Oxford
Americans in Oxford
The Oxford Guide

Did I leave anything out? Please "comment" below. Click on the "Oxford Sabbatical" label to view the whole year.

Oxford Rituals

Come exam weeks , you’ll see students in academic gowns treading cobblestones past ivory towers. It doesn’t feel like Oxford has changed in centuries until you look closer.

Undergraduates read (ie study) only one subject, with the exception of some new hybrids like PPE (politics, philosophy and economics.) There are qualifying exams at the end of the first year and weekly tutorial papers. However, the only thing that counts towards the final degree are the exams sat at the end of 3 years in 10 subfields.

If that weren’t enough pressure, the students are required to wear 19th century kit known as subfusc for exams. Young men must wear: a white bow tie, shirt, black suit and black shoes under an academic gown. Young women substitute a black tie and can wear either a black skirt or trousers. Don’t say “pants”- that’s underpants in British! On hot days they can at least sit the exam in their shirt sleeves.

A more recent custom is to don a carnation on the lapel. On the first day of exams, which can last 10 days, the flower is virginal white. During the middle days it is pink. On the final day the carnation is red, as if it had been soaking in a red inkwell, slowly reaching saturation, not unlike the student.

Not everyone is on the same examination schedule, so lunchtime in hall is an amusing clash of period dress. At Oriel there were lads in their sports kit elbow to elbow with suited chums. Gowns were hung on pegs to keep tidy. The lunch food was institutional. I had mystery meat on a skewer. Fish? Chicken? Pork? Quite unlike a high table feast. No one seemed to mind as they ate heartily after morning exertions.

Most exams are sat at Examination Schools in silent, cavernous rooms. I could feel the tension in the air when I peeked my head in on my way to a history lecture. It’s a grand 19th century sandstone building with an enormous two story foyer. The halls sport black and white checkered floors and colorful walls leading to stone steps. The whimsical feeling is misleading.

These third year exams count for everything and are administered by the university, not the separate colleges. Very few students graduate with a First Degree. Most get a Second, and the worst get a Third or fail. There are nicknames. A Lower Second (2-2) is called a “Bishop Desmond.” A Third is called a "Richard."

The joking spins out of control after the final exam. A student’s mates greets him/her with balloons, silly hats and necklaces as they exit. They are covered in treacle so that tossed flour will stick to their gowns. A plate of pastry cream or shaving cream is shoved in the face. Traditionally the student was sprayed with champagne, but the police have been cracking down on that. I still spotted students chugging champagne bottles on side streets.

This elaborate Oxford ritual is called “trashing.” Plenty of drinking and celebration follows at the pub or in the dorm rooms.

Out punting on a Saturday, I spotted a trashed student in his filthy gowns by the river. At the urging from his bank-side mates and more students in a punt, the lad dove in and swam out for a glass of wine. He was offered the entire bottle but declined in a posh accent, “Christ Church ball tonight.”

Every other year the colleges hold a Commemoration Ball, a white tie affair that starts in the evening for dinner and lasts all night. At dawn there is a violin serenade with champagne and a greasy full English breakfast in hall.

I went to a similar ball at Cambridge University back when my sister-in-law was there. We ladies wore floor length ball gowns and danced all night under the stars. Well, we didn’t actually see the stars, but they must have been there twinkling over the dense fog.

The final ritual is Oxford’s graduation ceremony held in the Sheldonian Theatre, designed by Christopher Wren. It’s too small to fit everyone, so the students graduate on separate days. I attended the honorary degree ceremony, called Encaenia, meaning "festival of renewal" in Greek. A bit of a misnomer as most of the ceremony was conducted in Latin!


The ceremony opened with a trumpet fanfare, and then black robed officials with white hair and long silver staffs escourted the honorands inside. The University Chancellor sat upon that golden throne conferring degrees.

The ancient language could not keep up with modern times. The introductory speech for Sheila Evans Widnall, former US Secretary of the Air Force, waxed poetic about Icarus and such.

The only honorand I recognized was Thomas Nagel, a philosopher of mind who once asked “What is it like to be a bat?” Thanks to a translation sheet, I now know how to say bat in Latin: vespertilio.

Another Encaenia ritual was to thank (in English) the donors – that was dull! The speaker livened up his speech with jibes against rival Cambridge University, the “daughter school.” Then all the dons in their academic gown processed outside into the rain.

I enjoyed seeing the Encaenia spectacle but was sorry to miss fellow Oxford blogger John Kelly give a new media presentation at Reuters. Since I couldn’t be two places at once, my husband, Henry, will take over the blog from here. Our daughter snapped this photo of the Kelly family before they flew home to Washington D.C.

One of the real delights of this year has been getting to know the Kelly family. John is a columnist at The Washington Post who spent the past year as a Fellow of The Reuter’s Institute for the Study of Journalism researching the red-hot topic of citizen journalism. He presented his findings last week.

Citizen journalism hit the front-pages (oh, the post-modern irony of that phrase!) in the aftermath of 9/11, the Tsunami, and the 7/7 bombings. Nifty new technologies like mobile phone cameras and wireless broadband mean that just about anyone can be a reporter, by-passing “old media” journalists who are, John reports, less trusted than even estate agents. User-generated content (UGC), wikipedia, youtube and blogs have created powerful new networks which have turned upside-down the old relationship between reporter and audience.

That’s good news if you think the old media are a complacent elite delivering patronising lectures - isn’t it better to choose what you want at the buffet than have some snooty waiter decide for you? A citizen journalist broke the story of Obama’s “bitter” comment, and bloggers spread the word, leaving the old gatekeepers flat-footed.

On the other hand, many fret about the erosion of the old journalistic values of professionalism, objectivity, and fact-checking. Instead of a vibrant cyber-democracy, these folk see a cacophony of ill-informed opinion - a view hilariously captured in this Mitchell and Webb spoof of the the BBC’s "Have Your Say" fixation.



John steered a helpful middle course between these extremes, holding onto the hope that we can figure out a way to get the best of both worlds. He noted that the same technology that allows every Tom, Dick or Harriet to post something bogus also allows anyone to correct it in real time. “Check, then publish” is a good old-media rule, but “publish, then check” has its merits in a networked world.

In any case, the evidence is that most citizens don’t actually want to be journalists - less than 1% of the BBC’s on-line traffic is UGC-related. We’ll always need objective, contextualized reporting and informed analysis. Journalists who can deliver this AND who are savvy to the latest media will be in high demand. Journalists, in short, like John.

We miss you and your family already, John. Keep blogging back in the USA!

Oxford High Table and Imps

You can pay a few quid for a tour of lovely Magdalen College, but please be my virtual guest at high table. I promise a new perspective.

My old friend, Stewart Wood (at right with my husband, Henry) is both a Magdalen fellow and Prime Minister Gordon Brown’s advisor. His boss keeps him busy, but Stewart took a night off before President Bush’s visit to take us to dinner at high table. It was a special night, Magdalen College’s 550th. Happy Birthday!

After admiring the Magdalen gardens and deer park,

. . . we had a champagne reception in the Senior Common Room. The oak-paneled chamber was out of another century and not a recent one with its deep-set windows overlooking the quads. The dark wood furniture was antique; the art was museum quality and the arm chairs were red leather before a fireplace.

There were the dons in black academic gowns, their guests and the college president. It was very social, and people were curious about what an American novelist was doing at Oxford. I was struggling to describe my genre of women’s fiction, when one fellow figured it out: “an Orange Prize book!” I wish. Magdalen has quite a literary history: Oscar Wilde and C.S. Lewis.

When it was time to dine, we filed out a tiny door onto the roof. The roof? Yes! Philip Pullman did not invent his heroine’s rooftop rambling. Before Lyra, dons have been walking the Magdalen roofs every evening, and now I follow in their footsteps. I did promise you a new perspective!

There was a wooden walkway, covered in chicken wire for better footing. I was relieved my heels weren’t too pointy. Way down below was the cloistered quad. Even in the highest echelons of English learning and antiquity resides the silly sign:

We entered the dining hall through another Hobbit sized door. The main entrance for the students, who ate earlier, was at the other end. That entrance is approached by a grand stairway. The high table is literally a long table placed at 90 degrees to the others on a raised platform below the oak-paneled end wall. Do the students wonder how the dons mysteriously apparate at high table?

Before we dined, the Magdalen Boys Choir sang hymns from the balcony, and we stood for a Latin grace. Seating was open except for those at high table. By silver clad candlelight, we enjoyed a fine 4 course meal: soup, fish, meat and pudding. Then, as is English upper class custom, we changed seats for dessert wines, fruit and chocolates. You hold onto your napkins but nothing else.

This time we were seated at high table, but first I admired the 550 year old royal charter displayed under glass. There were plenty at hand to translate the Latin. The delicate writing was perfectly preserved except for one smudge.

I slipped out to the loo (English for toilet) which was in an annex from the courtyard, built into the fort-like walls. There was even a moat. Henry gave me directions: “down the hall, take a left, down the stairs and a sharp right, pass the 3-headed dog….”

Thankfully there was no vicious dog, but there was a phantom call box. I half expected to find Dr. Who. I was certainly a time traveler.

It was good to walk and test my balance. After the champagne, white and red wines, I decided to pass on the sauterne and only took a thimble full of port, which is always passed to the left. The rooftop footing on the way back to the SCR was more treacherous in the dark.

Someone must have refilled my glass during dinner without my noticing, or why else would I consent to be weighed after eating so much? That leather bound stool is a scale, and my weight is now preserved for posterity in the Magdalen SCR record book. It was in stones so I have no clue. It’s hard enough to multiply by 14 when totally sober.

Stewart and I became close friends in our early 20’s. I was finishing college, and he and Henry were starting graduate school at Harvard. Being around Stewart makes me revert. Instead of staggering home to bed, I accepted his invitation to visit the Magdalen student bar.

Henry chimed in that it would be “research” for my novel. He was right. My protagonist is 20, she wouldn’t decline a pint (or a half pint in my case.) The bar was hopping with students celebrating the end of term and exams.

It was all good fun until I woke up the next morning. Hmm, now I remember what being 20 really felt like. On top of that, I’d agreed to meet an Oxford student for a pint the next evening. If I’m looking a bit worse for wear in the photo, you know why. Marisa Benoit was great company and perked me up.

Marisa first came to Oxford on her junior year abroad, and now she’s come back for an MSC. She’s from a really small town in Maine. I was thrilled to meet her because she has given me insight into my character who comes from a similar background.

Only Marisa’s back story was better than fiction. Her father is a tugboat captain in NYC, my hometown. He works 2 weeks on and off and decided to raise his family in Maine. On board he reads my blog (hello, Captain Benoit!)

Marisa gave me a tour around Lincoln College. The time to see it is in the fall when all the ivy turns bright red. I peeked my head in back then but had longed to see more.


Lincoln is a small college, but has a large graduate student population, making it a good choice for further degrees. It’s a warm, cozy place unless you're an imp.

An imp? That’s a daemon they keep locked in a cell by the student bar. No, I hadn’t even started drinking when I heard this tale. That’s him in the photo. I’ll zoom in closer for a better look. Do you sort of wish that I hadn't? He makes gargoyles handsome.

The Lincoln Imp used to grace a corner of the front quad, but now he’s been locked up for safe keeping, and a modern imp has taken his place. Are you thinking what I’m thinking? This imp could be the inspiration for Pullman’s daemons and the deathly tunnels below Oxford. It gave me the chills.

The library at Lincoln gave me good chills. It was once a chapel (they have another) but is now devoted to worshiping books. Wouldn’t you want to study in this glorious space? Thanks, Marisa, for the tour and the pint.

Another new friend this year is Bee. She writes a similar blog, Bee Drunken, about life as an American married to an Englishman here. We also share a love of reading. You have to check out her funny post on the 9 signs of going native (English.) For #10 I'd add putting the wash out on the line as soon as the sun shines. Bee and I met for a Port Meadow walk, but of course it was pouring. We had lunch at The Trout instead.

When people ask what I enjoy about blogging, it’s the 2-way street. I’ve “met” so many interesting people though comments and blog links. It has made this year living abroad feel much less lonely. I love hearing your responses. I also appreciate writing and publishing in an instant click.

A bunch of you have asked me about buying my novels. It will be a wait. My agent is looking for a publisher for my first novel, Moose Crossing, now. S.A.D. is still in revision. I’ll be writing NOT CRICKET when I return to the USA based on material collected in this blog. It takes a long time for a manuscript to become a published book. Read my post, Shaping a Novel, if you want to learn more about the process.

I will announce the good news on my blog and add links when (if?) the books are available for purchase. It’s conceivable they will end up with different titles. In the meantime, I’ll definitely keep blogging when I go back to Maine, and I’ll revisit England from time to time. I still have a few more weeks left. So much to do!

May Day in Oxford

I awoke at 4:00 am to see dawn on May Day, but the Oxford students had been reveling all night long. The police requested that the students refrain from jumping off Magdalen Bridge into the Cherwell River after previous years’ injuries. Try reasoning with a lemming. I heard of a couple that got engaged in mid-jump. Honestly! Can you imagine how much drink was involved?

May Day is a pagan celebration, and yet there are Christian overtones. Or should I say over-tunes? After six bell chimes, choristers sang in the sunrise from Magdalen Tower. Crowds of drunken students and sleepy townspeople tilted up their heads to hear the Latin hymn. The young boys’ voices were truly angelic. Over the tower a small patch of blue sky dissolved dark clouds. But for a few cheers and loose balloons, the crowd stood still in silent awe. The Magdalen Boys Choir then sang Sumer is Icumen In. The minister spoke a few words about Mary Magdalen, the college’s namesake, and welcomed spring.

The many gargoyles of Magdalen College leered down at the less than reverent crowd.


Inebriated students in tuxedos with lost bow ties lounged upon the street as their micro-mini skirted girlfriends shivered, lurched and giggled. A Scottish gentleman in a dinner jacket, white tie and a kilt gave his stiletto-ed lady a piggyback ride. Others had painted their faces or hair in fluorescent hues. I looked for traditional Morris dancers and was impressed by this modern take:

There were live bands playing along High Street:

In Radcliffe Square Scottish country dancers spun in kilts and long skirts before a bagpipe player:

Another Scotsman welcomed spring with not so fresh air before St. Mary’s Church:
Vault & Gardens inside the church was serving a hot cooked breakfast from 5:45 am, but the queue (line) was too long to join. Many cafes and pubs had been open most of the night.

On New College Lane before the Bridge of Sighs, groups of Morris Dancers cracked sticks, stamped clogs and jingled bells to accordion players.

Dawn’s early light made the sandstone buildings glow pinkish gold.

A tree man watched. Must be a druid thing. Note the pink haired lady and the cheese-headed accordion player behind him. At least I think it was a he. It’s hard to sex a tree. Green families gathered on the steps of the 18th century Clarendon Building.

Despite the forecast for heavy rain, not a drop fell. The rites of spring must have worked!

May Day is also peak bluebell time in England. The hovering purple-blue mist could make a curmudgeon believe in fairies.

Best place to see these lovely woodland flowers is on National Trust Land. The Holies in Berkshire overlooks the beautiful Thames Valley.

Fluorescent yellow grouse and fields of rape provide the perfect compliment. England can be relentlessly grey and green so to see such rich color is pure joy.


May also heralds World Press Freedom Day. At The Reuter’s Institute my husband, Henry Laurence, gave a brilliant talk on political censorship of public television. In a related article Henry revealed how the Japanese government altered NHK documentary coverage of the comfort women (WWII sex slaves) and how the Bush Administration censored PBS children’s programming.

The British BBC is by far the most progressive public broadcaster, although not free of incidents of self-censorship. Henry referred to the phenomenon as “the pre-emptive cringe.” Expect a really interesting book to come out of two sabbaticals of research in Japan, the UK and the USA. It is fascinating and provocative material, but you don’t have to take my word on it.

Washington Post journalist John Kelly blogged about Henry’s talk. John Kelly’s Voxford is one of my favorite blogs; it’s topical, controversial and often very funny. Fridays feature the gargoyle of the week. Like us, the Kelly family is on sabbatical from the USA. John refers to England as the land of warm beer and cold loos (bathrooms,) but he clearly loves it.

Another new friend from this sabbatical year is women’s fiction author Miranda Glover. She’s in my writers’ group. Miranda’s second novel, Soulmates, just came out last week. Soulmates is about sisters, daughters and the sad havoc of depression. From trendy London to the cold beauty of Stockholm, it’s a captivating read in a soothing voice, rich in detail. I’ve only just started and look forward to reading more tonight.

I’m cross with the characters in the new novel I'm writing. They’re not even out of the prologue and already they are waking me before dawn for adventures. Maybe it’s sleep deprivation or the amount of work left to do for this English novel, but I can’t believe it is already May!

Oxford Literary Festival 2008

It was not without irony that Lionel Shriver announced that she would be the first to read “smut” aloud in Christ Church Library. At The Oxford Literary Festival Shriver read two sexually explicit but intellectually charged passages from her latest novel, The Post-Birthday World. Shriver takes a bold stab at what people really think about when making love. As she said, there is a limit to the number of physical combinations of which part goes where. Lionel didn’t blush once, her enunciation was as faultless and subtly nuanced as the most seasoned actress. The stage was set with leather-bound books housed in oak below ornate moldings, an ivory tower out the window.


It made me want to go back and reread her book; I blogged about PBW last May. A review in the Guardian (spoiler alert) claimed this work was her most autobiographical. Shriver left a long term relationship for the love of a jazz musician. Like her heroine and like me, Shriver is an expat American living in England. We were both dressed in black t-shirts and jeans, unlike anyone else in the silver-haired, tweedy audience. I confess to feeling comfort at hearing an American accent again, like finding an old friend.

The PBW has been called chick lit although it tackles deep issues such as the inspiration for creativity and even the conflict in Northern Ireland. It is still quite a change from the disturbing We Need to Talk About Kevin. Her Orange Prize winner was about a school shooter. A hand count showed that I was one of the few that had read her latest; most were Kevin fans and women.

I asked how she managed to defy genre typing and what her next project would be. Shriver was wary of “the women’s fiction pigeon hole” as she cherishes her male readers too. Her claim was that women read more books then men and are just as happy to read broadly. She did admit that her agent was nervous about her next novel: a reflection on the American healthcare system written in a male voice. As long as Shriver continues to write beautifully and honestly about controversial subjects, I believe her audience will only grow.

The Oxford Literary Festival lasts an entire week and is housed in Christ Church which many may recognize from Brideshead Revisited. The events were well worth the £7.50 admission just for the venue alone. I attended one where I sat at high table in Hall. If the space looks familiar, it was the model for the Hogwart’s dining hall in Harry Potter.

Even the entrance to the Hall and other conference rooms was beyond grand.

Of course nothing at the venerable college was accessible, so the panel I attended on "Disability in Writing" was housed across the street. The chair was the academic Tom Shakespeare. Susan Clow, manager of In the Picture spoke first about the importance of including disabled children in mainstream children’s picture books. It’s a more representational vision of reality, and inclusion sends the important message that the disabled are not invisible. Her website has many good tips for illustrators.

Susan Clow, Tom Shakespeare, Mark Haddon and Lois Keith

Novelist Lois Keith listed 3 approaches to avoid when writing about the disabled:

1. “I wouldn’t wish disability on my worst enemy.”
2. “He threw his wheelchair out the window to walk again.” (eg Colin in The Secret Garden)
3. "Show the disabled character watching passively in the corner." (eg sweet Beth in Little Women)

The main draw of the panel was author Mark Haddon. A sharp-eyed reader will note that the chapters in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time are all in prime numbers. Not once in the narrative is it spelled out that the engaging narrator with a number fixation has Asperger’s Syndrome. Haddon’s only regret was that the publisher added that information to the jacket blurb. His novel invites you to see the world through autistic eyes, but it is not a book about disability per se.

The Curious Incident is one of the best young adult books I’ve read; my son at age twelve loved it too. Encouraged by Haddon, I have included a disabled character in my novel S.A.D..

I attended the panel on Japanese Historical Fiction just for fun. I’ve always enjoyed reading novels about Japan. One of my favorite authors is Haruki Murakami. My husband teaches Japanese Politics, and my sister-in-law is Japanese.

Ellis Avery was worried that a 21st century American couldn’t understand what it felt like to be a 19th century Japanese girl. I applaud her choice of narrator: an American orphan, adopted by a Japanese family as a servant. The Teahouse Fire is as beautifully choreographed and unrushed as a tea ceremony. What drives the narrative is the complex relationship between the fictional maid, Aurelia, and a real historical figure, her mistress. Shin Yukako rescued the tea ceremony from obscurity in a rapidly modernizing Meiji Japan, just opening to the west.

What is striking about Avery’s story is that it reads like a Japanese novel. It reminds me of Mori Ogai’s The Wild Geese which is set in the same time period and is one my favorite novels. In both we see the attention to detail, the importance of family tradition, the theme of unrequited love and even the slow pace. What enlivens the narrative in Teahouse is a distinctly American feminist perspective, including a lesbian romance. It’s an unusual mix, but it works. I’m missing her voice since finishing the book.

I don’t have as much to say about Lesley Downer’s The Last Concubine because I haven’t read it. Like Avery's novel, it is set in 19th century Japan. Although Downer lived in Japan for 15 years, the only Japanese women she said she could relate to were geisha. She characterized the rest as married at 24, had kids, were gossipy, didn’t know men (even their husbands) and didn’t work. That isn’t the Japan that I know.

At the end of the readings, Avery delighted the audience by passing out Japanese sweets and conducting a tea ceremony. Avery has studied the art of Japanese tea for years. She held her arms as if wearing a kimono and moved with measured grace. Downer was an obliging guest, her role as ritualized.

On Avery’s website I discovered that we share the same literary agent, Jean Naggar. I introduced myself to Avery and her partner, Sharon Marcus; both teach at Columbia University. Oddly enough, they already knew me. They had googled “best tea in Oxford,” found my blog and enjoyed a decent cup of tea and lunch at The Rose. Professor Marcus studies 19th century women journals and said my blog reminded her of the travel journals from that time. Isn’t cyberspace a small world?

Another panel I attended was “Blogging the Classics” which debated book review blogging vs. newspaper literary criticism.