Researching a Novel in Japan

Entrance to the Meiji Shrine Inner Gardens in Tokyo

Konichiwa from Tokyo! With both of our kids at college, I was free to join my husband on a two month sabbatical to Japan. I apologize for not updating my blog regularly, but it has been a busy transition. In June I signed with a new literary agent, Sara Crowe. Since receiving her excellent editorial notes, I've been revising a young adult novel set in Maine while planning a new YA novel set in Japan. Henry and I have now been here for three and a half weeks. Given the political situation in the USA, I alternate between homesickness and feeling sick of home.

Japan 1101 class photograph by Anna Aridome. 

It's a big responsibility writing about a country that is not your own culture. Although my brother is married to a Japanese woman and they speak that language with their kids, I knew only a handful of words. In late August I enrolled in Japanese 1101 at Bowdoin College, where my husband teaches Japanese Politics. The US Department of State recommends 800 hours of instruction to become proficient in a romance language but 1,800 hours of class for Japanese or Chinese. Japanese has three alphabets. After five weeks of instruction, my class had only mastered two: hiragana is phonetic and katakana is for foreign words/names. Those two are easier than the kanji imported from China. Sentences contain all three alphabets. Most student would take two years of Japanese before junior year abroad or a summer internship. We had a fabulous teacher, but I needed to work twice as hard to keep up with these gifted young linguists. Never have I done anything more difficult. 

My husband speaks Japanese so he took care of the logistics for our trip. We spent our first ten days in hotels, recovering from jet lag and waiting for our apartment to be available. Henry chose the Hotel New Otani in Tokyo because he knew I'd love its garden (above and below). 

Our sabbatical is doubling as an anniversary celebration for us and this hotel is also a popular wedding site. Sometimes the bride and groom dress in both traditional and western dress. The couple above gave me permission to take their photo. Except for holidays and weddings, most Japanese people dress in western clothing and live in western style apartments in cities. 

Tokyo from the Hotel New Otani. The green space is the Akasaka Palace grounds and mostly closed to the public.

I grew up in Manhattan and lived two years in London, but Tokyo is the most urban place I've ever experienced. There are few trees on sidewalks and fewer public parks. Even my limited knowledge of Japanese has been useful as I venture out alone in Tokyo. My iPhone with a Japanese SIM card is my map and dictionary. Simple chores like shopping for groceries and reading signs or menus are challenging. Swimming laps is an extra workout with my phone and phrasebook in the locker room. People try to be helpful but most speak limited or no English. This is my third visit to Japan, but I still feel unprepared. I continue to study the language on my own.

Can you find the moon in Shibuyu?

There are manga museums and teen hangout spaces to explore so I keep pushing beyond my comfort zone. The flashing neon lights, dense crowds and busy roads can be overwhelming. Imagine Times Square on steroids with a more homogenous population. There are few immigrants, expats or foreign tourists (most are Chinese) so we are a curiosity in our residential neighborhood of Shibuya. 

We found our airbnb apartment through a friend of a friend. The rooftop apartment with its balcony garden is an ideal writing retreat. Bird song wakes me in the morning and the tatami room is a soothing space to unwind after work. The remainder of the apartment is western style, although the bathtub talks and the toilet spritzes water and plays music. My brilliant husband deciphered the kanji to change the toilet's tune from Pachelbel's Cannon to traditional Japanese koto music. Like we new empty-nesters don't already feel like newlyweds in a tiny apartment!

The control panel for our toilet

In our new home we prepare mostly Japanese food, except at breakfast. I was very proud to read the katakana for fruit granola, which I found at 7-Eleven. In Japanese, milk translates to cow juice, but often they use our English word written in katakana. A Japanese breakfast is rice, pickles, miso soup and green tea or coffee. At the hotel buffets, I often combined both. 

As I struggle to adapt to my new environment and language, I'm gathering first hand experiences for my novel. Plus writing in English now seems easy by comparison! Later I'll blog about our trip to Okinawa (below) and to other places that I'll be visiting soon for research. Due to my travel and work schedule, I'll be posting irregularly. I update more frequently on twitter and Facebook.

Blogwatch: I'm looking forward to catching up with my blog buddies now that Google Blogger has reinstated my blogroll. The loss of those links for weeks was another reason I stopped posting. Blogging is meaningless without the community. It's nice to be back online!

Next Japan sabatical post: Temples & Gardens of Kyoto at Peak Foliage

Mother-Daughter Time in California

I was surprised when my daughter asked to visit Pomona, Stanford and Berkeley on our college tour. Gemma was looking for a small liberal arts school in the mountains with active outing and nordic ski clubs and no Greek life. She would have to miss a week of high school to fly from Maine to a region she'd never seen.

I asked, "Do you want to go to college in California or do you want to visit the west coast?" When Gemma admitted to the latter, I promised to take her there after she was accepted to college. So last month we flew to San Francisco for one last mother-daughter vacation before she starts Middlebury College in February.

At Half Moon Bay, CA with my daughter and my friend's dog. Photo by Martha Enthoven Stid, our host in Menlo Park.

Middlebury admits one sixth of the freshman to start in February, allowing time for a gap term. Gemma had trekked through the Scottish highlands with her cousin and worked on organic farms in France and in New Zealand (via WWOOF). We'd reunited for Christmas in the UK with my husband's family.

After wet England, we were ready for some Californian sunshine, but somehow we brought the rain with us, nearly ending their drought! Luckily the Muir redwoods were just as lovely in a misty drizzle. We spent our first day hiking with my daughter's friend from Chewonki Semester School, whose family hosted us in San Francisco.



As the sun broke through the clouds, we hiked from Muir Beach Overlook down to Muir Beach and had a tasty pub style lunch at The Pelican Inn (his family is half British too). That's a real pelican in my opening shot. Muir Beach and the pub are on the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge and up the bay.

Muir Beach

Double jet-lagged from England, I fell into the teen timezone, staying up past midnight and sleeping late.

My Snap Chat debut via Gemma.

We enjoyed cocktails and sodas at Top of the Mark, overlooking the San Francisco skyline. Our best meal out was at Range, a restaurant owned by the brother of my oldest friend. Range's chickpea fritters tasted like cheese souffle only lighter and healthier. All the ingredients were fresh and local, a joy in January. The Mission neighborhood, with its funky after hours boutiques and vibrant street art, was fun to explore at night.

My daughter revived my inner teen, suggesting we try on designer dresses at BCBG just for fun, imagining life on the red carpet. Then we rummaged through the sale racks for clothes we would wear in the real world. Stepping out of the changing rooms in our favorite dresses, we had an hilarious surprise. When Gemma leaves for college, I'll miss her laughter. It was hard enough saying goodbye to our friends in California.

When I last saw Miriam, we were at M.I.T. graduate school studying politics. There were only four women in our year so we bonded tightly. She was a fabulous cook and taught me how to make Oyakodon, a Japanese dish I still enjoy with my family. In San Francisco she treated me to excellent dim sum at Hong Kong Lounge. We reconnected like no time had passed and could have chatted for hours.

After a week of staying with friends, we pushed the boat out for the Monterey Plaza Hotel and Spa. The location, Cannery Row was the setting/title of one of Gemma's favorite novels. My dad emailed a link to a literary tour of Monterey, and we were pleased to find Doc's shack still standing. The character was modeled on a real marine scientist and friend of Steinbeck.

Our journey down the coast started out well when Enterprise Car Rental offered me a free upgrade to a BMW. Yes! It was a challenging drive in heavy traffic, thick fog, torrential rain and longer still dealing with a flat tire, but it was well worth the journey just to see the Monterey Bay Aquarium.

Braying sea lions and Pacific waves breaking under our cantilevered hotel lulled us to sleep. I woke early to watch the sea otters fishing in the surf while Gemma slept in. I wasn't quick enough to photograph a pod of dolphins leaping past the pier so I phoned my daughter. She stepped out on the balcony in time to see them.

With borrowed binoculars we watched hundreds more dolphins from the shore path, passing like a parade at sunset. We reminisced about the past and discussed her plans for the future: Philosophy, Studio Arts, Psychology, Music?

Today my son and I are helping Gemma move into her dorm. I'm so lucky to have two marvelous children, and Middlebury is a wonderful school. Still, it's hard to let go.

I will cherish these memories...

My daughter at Half Moon Bay, California.

Port Clyde to Monhegan Island, researching a novel

Last week my daughter and I visited Monhegan Island, twelve nautical miles off the Maine coast. I was gathering more material for my young adult novel, and my daughter was gathering botanical samples for her senior project. As we waited for the ferry in Port Clyde, she read a draft of my manuscript. My work in progress is set in a harbor town similar to Port Clyde, and one of the characters is an island lobsterman.

Riding the small mailboat ferry out to sea feels like traveling back in time.

Out the bow windows, Monhegan slowly appears on the horizon, rising out of the sea. The island community just celebrated 400 years of settlement, although Native Americans inhabited it seasonally before the white settlers. Monchiggon was the Algonquin word for out-to-sea island. There are around 40 year round residents currently, depending on how you measure residency. The only access is by ferry, with infrequent service off season. Summer people and birders start arriving Memorial Day weekend.

The largest building is The Island Inn, where we stayed since the beachside apartment I rented last spring was unavailable. The Island Inn offered a good deal on a two room suite in their meadowside cottage (the bi-colored house with the dormer windows) with an excellent breakfast buffet. More rustic options are the Monhegan House and the Trailing Yew, which I've enjoyed other visits. All serve breakfast and dinner since there are no restaurants on island. On season there are two coffee shops, a pizza parlor and an excellent brewery (open until 6pm), where visitors and islanders congregate. There is no nightlife after dinner.

Monhegan is lovely in late May with the forsythia and fruit trees blooming, attracting migrating warblers. Spring lags two to three weeks behind the mainland. It's chillier in the spring and summer, although warmer in winter since the sea moderates temperatures. Many days are cloaked in thick fog.

We were lucky to have sunny 60 degree weather for our hike day. A narrow cliffside trail encircles the island, granting breathtaking views (ie time to stop and catch your breath and take photos!) Hiking the full outer trail would take four to five hours at a leisurely pace.

Hiking boots are a good idea, although there are easy trails leading directly to lookout points, like Whitehead. Below the 160 foot cliffs, lobster pots bob in the surf.

The natural beauty of this remote island never ceases to enchant me. It hasn't changed much in the twenty-four years that I've been visiting it. I've taken countless photos, painted watercolors and now I'm writing a scene set on a fictional island like Monhegan.

I was so pleased that my daughter chose Monhegan Island as one of her eight collection sites for her senior project. She's researching medicinal uses of native Maine plants. I'll share some of her exquisite drawings in a future post.

I can't believe that my daughter is graduating from high school next week. It's been so special having this time to explore the Maine woods together and to share our passion for nature and art. I'll be offline next week, celebrating with my family.

At the end of the day we hiked up to the lighthouse to enjoy the sunset over the ocean, quite a rare treat for those of us on the east coast. The clear golden light was worth the journey on its own.

You can read more about my young adult novel and Monhegan Island here.

Next post: Wednesday, June 17th.

Family Weekend at Middlebury College

Last weekend my husband and I visited our son at Middlebury College in Vermont. The perfect weather and peak foliage called for a hike up nearby Snake Mountain. From the summit, we had a spectacular view of Lake Champlain and the Adirondack Mountains, across the border in New York.

The golden trail was an easy 1,000 feet over two miles ascent. The ski team passed us, running up and down, but we easily overtook the yuppies hiking with an elderly basset hound. A garter snake slithered by on the way down.

Middlebury campus was gorgeous. This is the view from the science building, where my son spends most of his academic hours. In his free time, he plays Chopin on piano, and he's joined the bike club, the nordic club, the film club and Mchaka Mchaka, a group that runs around campus at night, chanting in Swahili. I can understand why he's enjoying freshman year.

The ivy on his dorm was burning bright red, complementing the maples.

My British husband felt at home in the Shoreham Inn, run by a Brit and his American wife. The pub style restaurant served delicious hot cooked breakfasts and locally brewed Switchback Ale with a tasty dinner. Our luxurious loft room was in a converted sheep barn, a twenty minute drive from campus. All of Middlebury and neighboring towns were booked five months in advance of family weekend.

While our son did his homework, we went to a book talk on Wonder Women: Sex, Power and the Quest for Perfection by Debora Spar, a fellow Middlebury parent. Afterwards we settled into Adirondack chairs (scattered throughout campus) to read in the sun.

Back home in Maine, the leaves in our yard aren't too shabby either.