I Think You're Totally Wrong (4 page)

DAVID:
Did you ever feel compelled to have a conventional profession?

CALEB:
No.

DAVID:
Did you actively seek out a bohemian life?

CALEB:
After college I worked construction and tried to be a musician. I never considered a career or saving for the future.

DAVID:
How did you tend to support yourself abroad?

CALEB:
Teaching ESL: English as—

DAVID:
I know what “ESL” stands for. Did Terry ever put any pressure on you to have a career?

CALEB:
No. She's pretty good about it. It's not like I'm a doctor and could walk into a six-figure job. And taking care of the children is a job. I could see myself teaching later.

DAVID:
Do you have genuine expertise as an ESL teacher?

CALEB:
No.

DAVID:
In any case, the point being, I wonder if we've married slightly more rational and commonsensical people than we are ourselves. You wife is in advertising?

CALEB:
Close enough. Technically, sales, but linked to marketing/advertising. And your wife's at Fred Hutchinson—fund-raising?

DAVID:
She's a project manager. They study things like whether night-shift workers are more likely to get prostate cancer. Did you ever go out with people in the arts?
Writers? Does it surprise you that you married someone who's not an artist?

CALEB:
Yeah.

DAVID:
Me, too.

CALEB:
When I was overseas, I never thought I'd marry an American. I thought I'd settle overseas. Probably Asia.

DAVID:
Then, in 2003—

CALEB:
Sorry to interrupt …

DAVID:
No, go ahead.

CALEB:
How much of your stuff does Laurie read? Does she criticize drafts? Does she read only the published book? Does she like your work?

DAVID:
I'd say it's one of the sadnesses of my life. She reads my work and she semi-likes it sometimes—there'll be passages she likes—but she's not exactly riveted. She liked
The Thing About Life
okay, I think, and she liked
Dead Languages
, but that was a long time ago. She's a huge David Foster Wallace fan; she's always apotheosizing Wallace. Enough about Wallace!

CALEB:
No. You remember my story set in Thailand—the one I gave you, published in
Post Road
? Terry still hasn't read that story. It's four pages. I told her I'd like her to read it,
showed it to her, put it on her nightstand, and left it there. If she's read it, she never told me. The only things she likes come from my
Notes of a Sexist Stay-at-Home Father
family blog. I write stuff like “What do you call a guy who hates giving women backrubs?”

DAVID:
Is this a joke?

CALEB:
A massage-ynist. But my serious stuff she hates or isn't interested in. I have to twist her arm to read any of it. She usually finds it boring, calls me a “literary snob.”

DAVID:
And yet she mocks your preference for beer over wine.

CALEB:
She loves Harlan Coben. He writes the Myron Bolitar series. She'll say, “You'd like Myron Bolitar because he was a basketball player, number one draft pick for the Celtics who blew his knee out and became an agent who cleans up athletes' messes. Not only that, it's verrrrrrrrrrrrrry literary!” Two months ago, when you and I marked this trip on the calendar, I said to her, “Give
Reality Hunger
a shot. I'm really interested in your take; it'll give us something to talk about. I'm going to leave this book on the night table, and please take a look.” She said, “Okay.” She still hasn't read it.

DAVID:
And you put it there in August?

CALEB:
Yes.

DAVID:
Laurie is capable of the same.

CALEB:
But she likes Wallace.

DAVID:
That's not generally her taste. Maybe it's a Midwestern thing. “Shipping Out,” “The Illinois State Fair,” “Consider the Lobster,” and “Host,” but those are it. Non-writers could never fathom the hurt inflicted—or maybe they can.

CALEB:
My dad read that
Gulf Coast
Q&A you and I did and called it literary fluff. Sarah read our interview in the
Rumpus
and couldn't get past the fact that we said “fuck” a few times. I didn't know what to say. Then Sarah read a few pages of
Reality Hunger
and wasn't impressed, and Terry shares Sarah's opinion, even though she hasn't read a word of it.

DAVID:
Some galleys of
How Literature Saved My Life
arrived while I was away. Natalie said, “We opened the box not knowing what it was, and then we read it. We really liked it. So funny!” I asked, “How far did you get?” They stopped at page twenty. There's a heavy-duty sex scene at about page fifty that I'm glad they didn't get to, but I was just sort of baffled that they'd read and stop after twenty pages. Not even curious? I wonder if it has something to do with not wanting to know about that part of you.

CALEB:
Terry hates the way I analyze everything. I pushed some books on her that she liked: Rian Malan's
My Traitor's Heart
, Jung Chang's
Wild Swans
, Maugham. Then she wanted me to read
Water for Elephants
and
Stones from the River
. I'm open, but I immediately started dissecting. She says I don't like books because of envy, because I'm unpublished. As if, all of a sudden, I'm going to like these books as soon as I'm published.

DAVID:
Would Terry read
Thing About Life
?

CALEB:
She'd probably like that more than
Reality Hunger
.

DAVID:
Maybe she'd like
Dead Languages
.

CALEB:
She might.

DAVID:
She wants smooth entertainment. What does she like beyond Simón Bolívar or whatever his name is?

CALEB:
Oprah selections: Rohinton Mistry. Amy Tan. Lisa See.

DAVID:
Those are probably not terrible.

CALEB:
She's a big David Sedaris fan. She's always, “Why can't you be funny and write like David Sedaris?”

DAVID:
Did Terry ever read your rape novel?

CALEB:
Maybe ten percent. She says she supports my writing, and if I ever get published, she expects me to write in the acknowledgments, “I thank my wife for her loving support.” She supports me as a father and husband but not as a writer. She endures my writing. My passion could be race car driving or eating hot dogs for all she cares. I don't know if she'll even read this.

DAVID:
Sounds like she wouldn't.

CALEB:
Well, I'm not going to edit myself. I realize family or intimates don't like to see themselves portrayed in an uncomplimentary manner. Writers turn to fiction to protest, perhaps.

DAVID:
You're still invested in fiction in ways that I'm not.

CALEB:
(to the DVR)
September 29th, 2011, 8:38 p.m. Caleb and David are departing from the parking lot at Red Apple Market, in Sultan, Washington, where they bought groceries. Groceries and beer.

DAVID:
So who's this guy whose house we're staying at?

CALEB:
Khamta. He's with his wife and son in Hawaii. His wife is his ex-girlfriend's ex-girlfriend.

DAVID:
Yowza.

CALEB:
His wife and ex are/were bi.

DAVID:
Got it. How do you know him?

CALEB:
I grew up in Coupeville—fifty miles north of Seattle. Two friends from high school, Dave Barouh and Khamta Khongsavanh, built houses outside of Skykomish. I worked on both houses. Barouh's is smaller and the power has a problem, so we'll probably stay at Khamta's.

DAVID:
I'm happy to stay wherever you want. What are my requirements? Warm. I like heat. And I'd like to take some walks.

CALEB:
I have a Washington State Parks pass. We can do casual or serious hikes. I know the terrain. Whenever I'd work on these houses, I'd stay a few days. Terry calls them work vacations.

DAVID:
Is it hard to leave? Are the girls fine being with Terry?

CALEB:
They favor her. When she comes home, they leave me and pounce on her. My wife's a better wage earner, and if she were a full-time mom, she'd be better at that, too.

DAVID:
I'll bet you're better at it than most men would be.

CALEB:
I'll give myself that.

DAVID:
What's the state of your novel? I thought it was eminently publishable (whatever that means). Didn't Sarah Crichton at FSG [the publisher Farrar, Straus & Giroux] like it a lot?

CALEB:
She was hooked by the beginning but thought it lost momentum.

DAVID:
That would have been so great.

CALEB:
Would have been. You liked my novel but didn't love it.

DAVID:
I think that's fair.

CALEB:
I had to push you to read it.

DAVID:
I'm a hard sell: I'm not interested anymore in the conventional novel.

CALEB:
My novel's been rejected by some really great editors. My agent tried her best, got it to the right people.

DAVID:
Where's she based?

CALEB:
D.C. Her biggest clients are a congresswoman named Barbara Lee and Helen Thomas until she dumped Helen after her anti-Semitic tirade. She didn't change a word of my manuscript, just sent it off. She sells genre fiction and nonfiction by politicians and journalists. I'm the only “literary” writer she has. It's time for me to switch.

DAVID:
It's best not to tell an agent or an editor what's going on until you have to. You have to be willing to piss people off.

CALEB:
That shouldn't be a problem.