By PJ Parrish
I’m going to try really hard to stay on topic today. But it’s going to be tough sledding because I have all this…personal…stuff on my brain this week. Still, it’s odd when stuff in your personal life sometimes dovetails what is going on in your reading life.
Post-vacation (where I read four books in two weeks), I’m finding I still have a strong urge to keep reading. While in Paris, searching the hot and stuffy crannies of the Abbey Bookshop on behalf of my claustrophic husband, I pulled out a ratty paperback for 2 euros. it was Nick Hornby’s About A Boy. I gave it to the husband and he read it in week, often keeping me awake at night with his laughter.
I brought it home and started it two days ago. Finished it last night. What a terrific book. Now, I have seen the movie (starring Hugh Grant) but had never come upon Hornby’s 1998 book. How did I miss this book?
To summarize: Will is 36 but acts like a teenager. He goes to the right nightclubs, loves Nirvana, and knows what trainers (sneaks) to wear. He has also discovered the perfect way to score with women — hanging around a single moms’ group, pretending to be Mr. Nice Guy and the father Marcus, a dweeby 12-year-old boy. Marcus is weird. He loves Mozart, never has owned a pair of sneakers, and lives in fear that his single mom Fiona will finally succeed in committing suicide.
About A Boy is very funny. But it’s about growing up (or failing to do so), keeping life at arm’s length, and the prickly friendship of two adolescents. It’s a slender little book in which nothing much really happens. (outside of Fiona trying to “top herself.”) Yet the book is impossible to put down as you grimace, groan, laugh and ultimately root hard for these people. Along with Hornby’s elegant writing, the character progression of Will and Marcus is what propells this story. As a reviewer for the The Guardian put it:
The psychology of Hornby’s characters is carefully, thoughtfully, and gently done. There is a heart to Hornby’s writing which sets its world apart from those of Connolly or Amis. Will’s friendship with Marcus – at first grudging, then resigned, and finally desperate – is both funny and touching. If About a Boy lacks anything, it is incident…this is a book where nothing much happens except people getting on with their lives. How Will Freeman gets on with his if he gets one at all is what About a Boy is all about.
It’s all about people. And learning to not keep people at arm’s length.
Which brings me to the personal stuff. I’ve always been fairly good at keeping people at arm’s length. It’s just my nature. But over the decades, I have tried very, very hard to learn how to not do this. I’m lucky that I married a social animal whose singular talent is making others feel comfortable and, well, noticed. My best friend Linda is also one of these people. I used to think this was something you are just born with. Like, they got the people gene and I didn’t. Well, I have learned that’s not true. You have to work at this stuff.
Allow me a metaphor. I love to garden. You know what decades of gardening has taught me? You can’t just stick a plant in the ground and expect it to bloom and grow so you can then sit back in your chair and admire it. You have to really pay attention to it. Watering, feeding, finding it a new home if it’s not thriving. You have to do this constantly. Not just when you feel like it. So it is with the people in your life.
I dislike Facebook. It’s a time-suck and I know it’s bad for me. But it has recently helped me reconnect with two old friends whom I had allowed to drift away. One, who did public relations for the Miami City Ballet, contacted me out of the blue only because I had posted something about dance on FB. I called her. We talked for two hours. I had forgotten how much we enjoyed each other’s company. I am working hard now on keeping in touch with her. I’m trying to pay attention this time.
Another old acquaintance found me on Facebook while I was in Paris. She was my boss at the Fort Lauderdale News and we lost touch decades ago when she moved to France. We weren’t able to meet up in Paris but now we’re emailing regularly, and trying hard to get the friendship synapes firing again.
A third friend recently lost her husband. Yeah, it’s hard being around people in mourning, or those trying to cling to the pieces when their boats sink. But I am trying to be there.
One last note. I have another friend — acquaintance really, we’re not real close — who is going through a really hard time right now. Her adult daughter has been drifting away, not staying in contact and seemingly not interested in keeping the relationship alive. My friend is at sea over this. It’s hard to be around her because she’s really needy, But I am trying to at least listen. Even when my inner-me is wanting to pull away. As Will says in the book:
Life was, after all, like air. Will could have no doubt about that any more. There seemed to be no way to keep it out or at a distance, and all he could do for the moment was live it and breathe it. How people managed it pull it into their lungs without choking was a mystery to him; it was full of bits. This was air you could almost chew.
Strange how some books find you when you most need them.
I am going to seek out Hornby’s other books. I like this writer. He can be witty but also dark and sarcastic, dealing with painful things. In About A Boy, nothing much happens, yet I didn’t care one bit. Give me a writer who isn’t afraid to be emotionally generous any time over a writer who holds his characters — and his readers — at arm’s length.
I needed this, Kris. In my writing, I’m emotionally available and present, but in person, I am guarded. Lately, I want nothing to do with social media, which is terrible considering how much fun I used to have there. When I force myself to pop in quick, my DMs fill with friends who miss me. And I do try to be more present—I really do—but it feels like work these last few months. I know it’s just me being me, and I need to find the joy again of reconnecting with those who care about me.
Your post acted as a wake-up call. Maybe I should read that book, as well. Thank you! It’s exactly what I needed. Oh, and I planted my first garden this year. Didn’t think I’d love it so much. Tending to my plants fills my nurturing side. Didn’t expect that.
I think the difficult tensions of our times makes us all want to pull inward. I get that from many friends lately. You just want to curl up in a ball and let the storm pass. But you realize that is the way of doom. Tending to plants is a great balm, isn’t it.
Up here in the boonies, my introverted self enjoys not getting out among people. I should probably try to change that, but as you said, it’s something I’ll have to work at. I’ve been going to yoga once a week for about 14 years and I probably know the names of three of the regulars. I brought a neighbor as my guest once, and she immediately knew everyone in the practice and was introducing me.
This is the main reason I play pickleball. Our group (actually called The Friendly Pickleballers…ha) is very social. We joke, we know each other’s names (as best we can for old farts) and we draw sustenance from each other. There are many pball groups here in Traverse City, but many of them are so somber and just out for blood. 🙂
Wonderful post, Kris, which speaks to the relevance fiction can have to us. I’m a “people person” who also values time alone and just with my wife. I was on Facebook for fifteen years, had hundreds of friends and was very active, but left in late January. I do miss the contacts with many people. It was such an easy way to keep in touch. However, I had issues with the throttled reach of posts, not seeing friends posts for days or even a week or more, and the continually injection of AI into everything there.
So, I do Bluesky, Discord, and email.
Yeah…I get that. FB almost makes it too easy. My husband is really good at telephoning old friends about once a month. I am trying to pick up on his example. Nothing like hearing a human voice.
As an introvert, I admit to living in my own little world. My husband is the “life of the party,” social extrovert so I let him drive that train for us as a couple. I’m perfectly happy spending my days in my office writing and not talking to anyone. But on occasion I wish for female friends with whom I can talk. Recently I’ve started having lunch with someone I’ve known forever but never got beyond casual greetings. It’s nice. I like it. And she doesn’t push too hard for my time. So maybe I’ll try harder. LOL I’m adding About A Boy to my TBR (and hoping it doesn’t topple over . . . .)
Having a lunch date is such a simple but effective idea. I see my sister Kelly regularly (we play pball together) but we don’t get a lot of time to just sit and yak. So she suggested a once weekly breakfast. So we began…
I watched the movie, About a Boy, at a writer’s workshop on character arcs and didn’t know there was a book. I’m one of those rare extroverted writers–never met a stranger type. Drove my introverted mother crazy.
I get that. Sometimes my husband drives me nuts that way. Maybe it’s really just jealousy. 🙂
Excellent, Kris, and timely for me also.
I.Am.An.Introvert. So is my husband.
But, I also have been trying to connect more. Just a few Sundays ago, I decided to seek out just one person during my time at church who I could speak to and encourage each week. Mind you, we’ve attended this church since 1991, so it’s not like these folks are strangers. 😬
I’ve noticed a marked difference in my introverted attitude since. And it’s a good thing.
Thanks for this, and have a super day.
😎
There are many news articles and such about how disconnected teenagers have become due to social media. I think us old farts are just as bad sometimes. And worse, considering we don’t have the excuse that we “grew up” on social media. We should know better. Sometimes a simple gesture like you are making…well, you never know quite how much that is going to mean to that other introvert that you’re reaching out to.
👍
Another thing along these lines, Kris. When in the grocery store, I avoid the self checkouts. I will wait in line to be checked out by a real person with skin on.
🥳
Yes, me too! I live in a smallish town in northern Michigan and I have stores and restaurants I go to where I have my “peeps.” We’re not friends of course but there is something comforting in the continuity of these everyday little meet-ups. At my breakfast place, I walk in and “my” waitress automatically brings me my meal: “Sunny, patties, rye.” (I think she uses this as my name). I watch her and she greets all the Ballcap Guys (that’s what I call the old dude-regulars) as if she has known them her whole life.
Reminds me of the TV show, Cheers.
“Norm!”
☺️
I’m a retired single introvert whose closest friends are either very busy or have moved closer to their kids. I see people at the gym, that’s about it. Thank God my sister and Crazy Cat Cousin make sure I’m still breathing. I have online friendships, though, and I’m happy.
Watch MY DINNER WITH ANDRE. Two men are having a dinner at a restaurant, and one of them pretty well monologues through the whole movie. No great drama or anything, just him talking, and it remains interesting. The power of dialogue and personality.
Re My Dinner Wtih Andre. First time I tried to watch this, it was WTF? But maybe I was too young. Watched it a while back and was hooked into it. The power of dialog and personality…indeed.
Wallace Shawn’s whiny voice made me want him to shut up so the other actor would keep talking. Very clever on the director’s part.