Saving Ruth (26 page)

Acknowledgments

T
hank you to my brother, Brenner, for his support and trust. Thank you to my parents, Ethan and Sue, for believing in me.

A big thanks to Mollie Glick—a fantastic agent as well as a quality hang. I'm so glad I found you. Thank you to my wonderful editor, Jeanette Perez, whose insight and wisdom made this a much better novel, and also to Brittany Hamblin who jumped in so graciously and offered such excellent advice.

Thanks to the Shacham family—Nurit, Ronen, Yaniv, and Karen. Moti was such a life force, and your journey since his passing inspires me every day. I am very grateful for all of you. Ronen, I couldn't ask for a better partner. Thanks for loving me, even when I am a pain in the ass.

And a final shout-out to my fellow swim clubbers circa 1984–1996. Writing this novel brought so many happy memories back—the intoxicating odor of grass clippings, chlorine, and corn dogs; the unrivaled refreshment of the Otter Pop; and the victory of finally mastering the elusive front flip, just to name a few. Thank you.

P. S.
Insights, Interviews & More . . .

About the author

My Writing Journey

I
ALWAYS KNEW
that I wanted to be a writer. Or actually, I should rephrase that a bit. I always felt most comfortable when I was involved in the process of writing. I can vividly remember walking home from kindergarten, drunk with power as I imagined the stage I would set for that afternoon's Barbie drama.

Or another time in first grade, when we were supposed to be drawing and/or glittering quietly, sitting with paper and pencil next to my classmate and instead transcribing the various ways by which he should spend quality time with his girlfriend. One of these activities involved taking a bubble bath together. Not soon after declaring this a must-do, my teacher took the paper up. I don't remember what happened next, but I do remember making him and myself happy by expressing the things he could not. Or most likely, forcing him to express the things he could not for my own entertainment. I was a bossy kid.

I started keeping a journal in the third grade (a Ramona Quimby journal, to be exact) and continued through my late twenties—sometimes religiously, sometimes sporadically, but always happily. My worries were considerably less threatening on paper. Nine times out of ten, they had to do with boys. Boys, boys, boys. Reading them now, which I sometimes do when I'm procrastinating, is both remarkably hilarious and painful at the same time.
Oh, Zoe
, I whisper, shaking my head and cringing incessantly.
Oof
.

But it was these journals that always made me feel like a writer, even if I was writing nothing else. In my twenties, working in book publishing, I would marvel at the discipline required to bring books to life. These were writers who made it happen. And someday, I would too, as soon as I watched this last marathon of
Laguna Beach
or pressed snooze one last time on the alarm clock.

At a certain point, I got tired of hearing myself complain about my lack of drive. It was time for some discipline. In my mind, I had two choices—join the army, which I was pretty sure was out of the question given my advanced age, or enter the New York Marathon lottery. I went with option two, and to my great surprise and initial despair, was picked.

That summer, I became a training machine. Drinking, having sex, and smoking were out. Running was in. And when I somehow managed to cross that finish line, I was a new person. If I could drag these Jewish breasts across five boroughs without dropping dead, I could certainly commit to writing a damn novel. And eventually, I did.

With this, my second novel, I'm still a bit nervous to call myself a writer. Am I? Really? Am I that lucky? Well, yeah, I am. I'm eternally grateful and humbled by that fact. I'm pretty sure my marathon days are behind me, but I hope that my writing ones have just begun.

 

A Life in Books

First book you remember reading?

 

Best Friends for Frances
by Russell and Lillian Hoban

 

Favorite little known novel?

 

The Slaves of Solitude
by Patrick Hamilton (This may not be little known at all as it was originally published in 1947, but I recently read it thanks to my pal Damian, and was blown away. So witty and sharp.)

 

Favorite bookshop?

 

Book Court in Brooklyn

 

Best film based on a novel?

 

The House of Sand and Fog
by Andre Dubus III

 

Best short story you've ever read?

 

Anything by Aimee Bender

 

Any authors you'd like to have dinner with?

 

Anne Lamott, Jhumpa Lahiri, Elizabeth Strout, Ann Patchett, David Sedaris . . .

 

Books on your nightstand?

 

Swamplandia
by Karen Russell,
The Marriage Plot
by Jeffrey Eugenides, and
Your Pregnancy Week By Week
by Dr. Glade B. Curtis, OB/GYN, and Judith Schuler, M.S.

 

All-time favorite literary character?

 

Olive Kittredge from
Olive Kittredge
by Elizabeth Strout

About the book

Q&A with Zoe Fishman

Who are some of your biggest literary influences? Was there a book that changed your life or inspired you to “pick up a pen”?

 

I am inspired by the writing of so many authors, but if I had to pick a select few, I would say that Ann Patchett, Anne Lamott, Jhumpa Lahiri, Zadie Smith, David Sedaris, and Elizabeth Strout are at the front of the pack. I'm not quite sure I can say that a book inspired me to pick up a pen, since really it was my parents' encouragement of reading and writing from a very young age that lit the fire, but I do remember entering a short story contest in high school. My work was eventually published in the school's literary magazine and my art teacher at the time, whom I really admired, pulled me aside to tell me that my writing reminded her of Alice Hoffman's. As I had just finished
Turtle Moon
and loved it, it was the ultimate compliment. I think that was the first moment I sincerely thought about writing a novel of my own some day.

 

Do you have any writing rituals? Or perhaps vices that help get you through the process of writing a novel?

 

I write best in the early morning. It's a combination about the lack of distraction—no one else is awake to bother me and online gossip reading and/or shopping just isn't as interesting at 5:30 in the morning—and the fact that I'm not alert enough to question every sentence I write that works for me. I don't really have any vices at this point (God, how boring) but if I'm up against a wall, I have been known to treat myself to a little something from my virtual mall in order to restart my engine. Also, tweezing is good. There's something about the immediate gratification of errant hair extraction that soothes me. That said, there's a fine line between casual plucking and outright brow removal. Most of the time, shopping is safer.

 

In your first book,
Balancing Acts,
you focused on four women in New York City. But in
Saving Ruth
you have a much different setting. What was it like to write about your hometown? Was it hard to write about a place you were so close to?

 

It wasn't hard so much as tricky. Ruth is nineteen, as I was the last time I lived in my hometown for an extended period of time. That's sixteen years ago for goodness sake. As my circumstances have changed, so have my perceptions over the years. I wanted to stay true to that frame of mind however, as that's key to her story.

 

Race and religion come to the forefront in this story. These are two hot topics that many find it hard to talk about. Was it difficult to include them in your story? Why did you want Ruth to face these questions of identity?

 

It was difficult to include them, because I think that whenever you do, you run the risk of misinterpretation or offending someone indirectly. They came up organically as the plot took shape, largely because, like Ruth and David, I grew up Jewish in the south. I think it was very important for Ruth to face these questions of identity, since she's so obviously at the start of her own journey to figuring out who she really is. She's moving outside of her self-indulgent bubble for what's really the first time and developing a genuine interest in the wherefores and whys of other people's behavior.

 

Saving Ruth
could be seen as a family novel, a coming-of-age novel, or a look into a small town. Did you set out to write one of these? Does one of these labels feel more correct than the others?

 

I really wanted to write about a brother and a sister at a crossroads, as I had yet to encounter a novel that specifically dealt with that unique relationship. Through that desire came the coming-of-age, familial, and small town themes, which really appealed to me as both a writer and a reader.

 

What advice would you give to aspiring writers?

 

Practice, practice, practice. Try your very best to carve out a little writing time each day. Discipline has been the key to my confidence. There's nothing like a breakthrough after several pages of blah. One of my top five feelings, for sure.

 

The Birth of Ruth

Like Ruth, I was a swim coach and lifeguard during the summers of my teens. I always wanted to write about those summers—the private jokes between the lifeguards, the quirks of the patrons, and the very specific beauty of southern twilight time. Sitting on the electric blue wooden stand, watching the pool lazily while classic rock wafted over the loudspeakers and kids splashed beneath me in that rose-tinted light— that was the perfect encapsulation of my youth.

The pool at which I worked inspired
Saving Ruth
. I changed some things of course (I never had to rescue anyone, and weed was never smoked on the job), but tried my best to stay true to its vibe. So many times while writing this novel I could feel the relentless heat radiating through the concrete deck beneath my feet or my wet hair dripping down my back; taste the sugary Skittles from the snack bar and see the way my red bathing suit contrasted against my brown thigh. All I had to do was close my eyes at my makeshift desk in Brooklyn. Time travel is easy when the memories are that close to the surface.

Some of my favorite times as a lifeguard were spent during the inevitable thunderstorms that crept up almost every afternoon. The sky would darken, the air would grow heavy, and in the distance a bolt of lightning would extend its tentacles menacingly. Immediately, I would count backward from fifteen—fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve—and if thunder rumbled before I got to one, it was everybody out or else. The kids would fly out of the pool in terror, fleeing the premises entirely. Whoever I shared the shift with and I would sit inside the snack bar, feet up, wrapped in our damp towels, smoking cigarettes and sipping cans of ice cold soda until it passed over.

Although short in length, that hour or so almost always provided the perfect backdrop for a confession of some kind. I think the relief that the rain provided—from the heat and the kids—encouraged it. I knew I wanted Ruth and David to share that time together, and in writing about that I became interested in the juxtaposition of something as serious as a drowning or near drowning happening immediately after. I wanted to take their vulnerable relationship from that rare moment of good natured stillness to utter chaos.

I really enjoyed writing about Ruth and David's relationship. What brothers and sisters mean to each other changes so much as they get older, especially as they're searching for their own identity outside of the family they were both raised in. That thread of communication is so easily lost; I think more so between sisters and brothers than between sisters because of the fact that they're so incredibly unrecognizable to each other at certain points—first through puberty and later as a result of the different interests they invariably develop.

The race and religion issues came up organically as the plot took shape, largely because, like Ruth and David, I grew up Jewish in the south. To be clear, I know that racists are everywhere, and that Judaism is misunderstood all over the world. I'm just writing about what I experienced, good and bad. Racism and ignorance is not the rule in the South by any means.

Further to this, I worried as I was writing that readers would assume that the book was autobiographical. Yes, I have a wonderful brother and parents that I love very much, but they are not David, Marjorie, and Sam. Sure, there are small pieces of them here, just as there were pieces of myself and my friends in
Balancing Acts
. I think that this kind of transferrence is inevitable for a writer.

Ruth, on the other hand, is very much like the nineteen-year-old me of yesteryear. College was the first time I had ever really been away from home, and boy did it blow me wide open. I developed an eating disorder and was seduced by its power very quickly. People treated me differently when I was rail thin. Most important, boys treated me differently. Suddenly I wasn't just the funny smart ass. I was pretty and it was intoxicating. I became terrified of food and of relinquishing my newfound power. However, even as I was in the throes of my disorder, in the back of my mind I knew that I couldn't live that way forever. That internal battle between the irrational me and the sane me was something I always wanted to write about. With Ruth, I got that chance.