This review is very different from the others both in nature and in content. I’ve read this book before, and also it’s turned from book review into this month’s reflection post (so y’all get a two-for-one deal out of this.) Even though this isn’t a typical book review, I hope you find it useful in your quest for more stories to read, because this is a good one.

The Whole of the Moon was–in all honesty a terrific book–written by my high school English teacher, Brian Rogers. I read it once before, in the fall of 2017 right when it came out. I was in the midst of college, still trying to prove to myself that I was good enough to go to med school (I was, but I wouldn’t figure out that I didn’t want to go until a year later), and I ended up skimming through it more than actually reading it. I went to college in the same town I attended high school, and in the back of my mind I knew I would get to reading The Whole of the Moon properly when I had more time, and when I could fully dedicate myself to it. I wanted to go back to my high school armed with questions for the author, because I knew Mr. Rogers would at least humor me and maybe even enjoy being asked about the motivations behind his work.

But when there is time, motivation wanes, and when there’s motivation there never seems to be enough time. And so the book remained on the shelf, traveling with me from college in the Inland Empire to my first apartment in L.A. to my second on the edge of downtown. And last February, sometime after Valentine’s Day, I felt compelled to pick it up and read the first few pages. I was already deep into my February read so I decided I’d really read it next month, because at that point I’d realized I will never find time for anything anymore. I had to make my own time.

The next week, I found out that Mr. Rogers had passed away after a year of battling cancer. I knew he had been diagnosed the year before, and you would think that that would have spurned me to read his book then. But the world was ending, the country was going into pandemic lockdown that same week, and I had just turned 23. The thought of reaching out then had crossed my mind, but he must’ve been getting so many calls already, and wouldn’t he rather spend time with his family? I didn’t need to take up that space.

So I didn’t call. I didn’t read. And now I’ve done the latter knowing I wouldn’t be able to do the former. So I share this with you.

The Whole of the Moon follows six stories throughout Los Angeles and the hills that extend out into the Inland Empire: an actor in present day Los Angeles waiting for a callback from his agent, two kids who ditched school in 1964 and go for a hike in the woods that turns dangerous, a woman named Dot reminiscing on her husband who spent years working on a musical adaptation of The Great Gatsby, a young woman Felicity who deals with the consequences of an unexpected pregnancy, Mike, a former high school star, who attends an open tryout for the Angels baseball team, and a boarding school teacher recalling the story of his cousin, a social climber who has disappeared in the wake of a murder. Each of these characters are connected by one thing: they all checked out the same copy of The Great Gatsby from the public library.

You read a lot of stories about L.A., about the glitz and glamour, the hustle, and the successes. And when you’re in L.A., it’s hard to see beyond it, beyond the dream that you’re so desperately trying to reach. This book is about the life outside of that. The stories that don’t get told because they don’t look like success. It shows the reality of L.A. and what this city can do to you, the desperation it injects into your bones. And whether or not Mr. Rogers intended it, I think it shows you hope. That there’s life and happiness outside of the dream, that it’s okay you didn’t reach it even though you still want it, even though you still dream about it.

I saw a lot of Mr. Rogers in this book. The characters’ grit, their passions, their determination. And I also saw the resignation, the acceptance, and contentment that this is where we’re at in our lives, and it’s not what we expected, but it’s not a bad life.

I saw that in the way that he taught us. He’s the reason why I have a mild to moderate obsession with Hamlet‘s Ophelia. He’s the reason I can’t get through the first few pages of Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia without remembering the class where – like Septimus – he had to explain ‘carnal embrace’ to a class of seventeen-year-olds. And perhaps my most famous moment, he’s the reason why I got to drop an f-bomb in class while prospective students were touring (it was in the script!)

I also saw a lot of myself in the stories, in the characters’ desperation and anxiety about whether they’d make it, whether they were good enough, and whether they actually mattered enough to make it, whether they were important. Wanting to be a writer, pursuing entertainment, and constantly questioning whether anything I write will ever be good enough, will ever be the thing that gets someone’s attention, I saw myself reflected back at me in this book. And maybe that was also Mr. Rogers at one point.

You never think of your teachers having a life outside of the classroom, and even at a boarding school like Webb, where some of our teachers literally lived on campus, it was still difficult to imagine them all as complex human beings. I have so many questions for that complex human being, the one who wrote this book and the one who taught me to have confidence in my writing, and I have a feeling he’ll be answering them as I go along my own journey.

From my first publication, to my first production, he’s been an influencing force and I have no doubt he will continue to do so.

So thank you Mr. Rogers, from the Whole of the Moon and back again.

-RP

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For more information on The Whole of the Moon, visit http://www.brianerogers.com/

You can buy a copy of The Whole of the Moon below:

Amazon

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Or ask your local library if they have it (if not, ask them to order it! It helps support your local library and your favorite book authors!)

Just checking in, how is your 2021 going so far? Two months down, another ten to go. I don’t know about you but those resolutions that I set for myself at the beginning of the year…are not going exactly as planned. And you know what, that’s okay! Who said we had to be perfect the first time around? 

The pressure that comes with feeling like you need to achieve success on the first try is stressful at its best and debilitating at its worst. As I got back into the groove of law school, writing, and an exciting side project, it was difficult to not stress out about everything that I needed to do and everything I wasn’t getting done. My inner critic was thriving on my anxieties, making everything feel much more intimidating than it actually is. And then you feel bad about not completing what you’re supposed to get done, you chastise yourself about it, and then you just dwell on your own feelings of inadequacy.

No? Is this just me?

The question I want to ask you is, “Is it worth trying to do something even though you know you won’t get it right?”

Is it worth continuing to try to start working out in the morning even though you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed yesterday? Is it worth trying to write something even though the words you’re putting on the page just don’t seem right?

I’d say it is.

I’ve definitely been struggling to sit down and write because it feels like whatever I do, it won’t be good enough with the time that I have. The timing isn’t right. I can’t give proper attention to this story, this character, this moment in a way that I want to with what I have. It’s not going to be perfect the first time around so why should I waste time to do something I’m going to have to do again anyway?

I’ve realized that there’s really no such thing as a waste of time, even when you’re not being “productive.” Everything that you do, is building on something. Sure, you didn’t get out of bed early enough to work out today, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try again tomorrow, or even better, try to find fifteen minutes in the day to stretch a little bit, take a walk, just do something that makes you feel like you’ve achieved the goal you set out for yourself.

Write for ten minutes if you can’t find time to write for thirty. Write one page instead of ten. Even if you end up deleting 200 words instead of writing anything new, you still built your progress because now you know what you don’t need.

Even if it isn’t perfect, it’s still worth doing.

-RP

It finally happened! I finally got to talk to someone about one of my favorite books, Juliet by Anne Fortier.

Juliet is an intricate historical romance that’ll entice Shakespeare nerds and also anyone who enjoyed The Da Vinci Code. This book puts a new twist in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, weaving the tragedy of the original Italian lovers, Romeo and Giulietta, into a modern adventure.

My copy, which I discovered at an airport bookstore years ago, has become my constant travel companion. The paperback has been battered and abused through long flights, rained out campsites, and salty ocean breezes.

Malavika, the host of Your Favorite Book, and I sit down virtually to chat about the book, as well as my own writing!

Hope you enjoy!

Oh boy. What a year 2020 was. I don’t know about you all, but 2020 was probably the worst year in my life thus far. I remember on New Year’s Eve in 2019, I told myself that 2020 was going to be better. After starting a job I was less than ambivalent about and feeling like I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, and all of my ambitions I did have at the beginning of 2019. As much as I wanted to be the sole hand that steered the outcome of my year, ultimately the fate of 2020 was never in my control.

To say our entire lives were upended is a bit of an understatement. And yet, I count myself lucky that I can sit here and write this when so many people can’t. But the one thing I learned from 2020 was just how resilient I could be. Throughout the year, I experienced loss and grief, but I also experienced the infinite support of my friends, faced my deepest insecurities and came out whole on the other side, and after all of that I’m surprisingly optimistic about this upcoming year.

I never did New Year’s Resolutions, but this year I made myself a list of hopefully attainable goals. Aside from the usual ‘get good grades’ and ‘revise your book’, this year’s goal is to exercise patience.

I am a deeply impatient person. Not about the little things like waiting in line, commercials during T.V. shows, yelling at your sister to get out of bed so we could get boba (okay maybe I’m impatient about that one). But mostly, I’m impatient with myself.

Everything feels like it should’ve been done ages ago. I should be a bestselling author, playwright, and screenwriter with a T.V. show in the works by now. A kickass book should be written and ready for publishing within a few months, setting a routine should happen right away, my abs should magically appear after a week of working out. Bouncing back from the grief of losing a friend should happen right away. I wanted so badly to get things right the first time. And I wanted to be done with the things that made me uncomfortable. I desperately wanted to get to the point where everything finally felt complete.

And you know, for a little while it did feel like everything in my life was finally going right. For the first time, I knew who I was and what I wanted out of my life. I felt like I was on the right path, that I was complete.

The thing about change is that it happens even when you don’t expect it to, when you don’t want it to.

This year, I am giving myself permission to be uncomfortable. To take time, as much time as I need to get things right no matter how many tries it takes. There is no goal of completeness anymore. Just patience. Patience that everything you’re working towards is going to come to fruition in some shape or form, even though it feels like it’ll never happen. Patience that the fruits of my labor will grow from the seeds I’ve planted, someday.

January, the first month of a new year, felt a lot like planting those seeds. Now, it’s time to work the land.

-RP