Rachel Vail's Blog

If I were writing the analog of this election, it would be a middle school election, of course. The characters would be perhaps overly familiar, but still it could be fun, especially at the start with funny rumpled Bernie and pompous Ted and befuddled Jeb! adding to the humor.

But if I ended it with the big rude charismatic-to-some loud-mouthed gleefully ignorant and ill-prepared racist mean bullying boy winning over the nerdy well-prepared over-cautious maybe even annoyingly self-righteous but with flashes of spunk girl, there is not a publisher on the planet that would accept it.

I can’t accept it.

So.

Obviously that can’t be the ending. That has to be the inciting incident – the beginning of the story. We start from here.

First drafts are hard.

Nothing but first drafts in reality.

Love love love to all of you and yours.

Rachel Vail

I used to watch the nested birds

The awkward little ones, feathers still unsmooth

Those are always my favorites: the balky peri-fledglings

As their parents nudged them toward the nest’s edge

And I imagined the thoughts of those unready unsteady

Little ones

Peeking over the edge of the nest

Looking down down down

And out into the unfathomably vast world

“Do they hate me?”

The little birds must be thinking, I thought

And “What did I do wrong? Ask for too many

Worms? I was hungry! They’re supposed to… I didn’t mean…”

Or worse, maybe they are realizing that their parents believe

In them

A horrible apprehension

Because, we awkward littles know

Our parents are wrong

They believe we can fly

We know we can’t

We know we are the one who can’t

And our parents will suffer when they discover

This truth

But now I am thinking about those parent birds

Pushing their baby toward the edge

Believing he can fly

Despite his never having flown before

And despite wanting to cuddle him back down

In the too tight coziness of the nest

Just a little longer

But nudging him anyway toward that edge

Knowing he can fly

And must

Still so little and not smooth but still, it’s time;

They can feel it gradually dawning

Maybe it’s their hope and belief or love that will keep him

from hitting the ground hard when he takes to the air

Not really though

It will be his wings

He will find his own wind current

And float on the joy of of his own devising

They know this

So now I will look up in solidarity at those wise parent birds

Whose hearts are breaking but also bursting

Who nudge their baby bird to the nest’s edge

Knowing

He was born to fly

Away

Rachel Vail

1 November 2016

The Last First Day

Your first first day of school, you cried.

I took a picture of you at home before we left

So handsome, I told you, honestly

Your huge eyes were wide, unblinking

Not ready

Your round hand clutched mine

As we walked up Broadway together

You wanted to know what to expect

You always wanted to know what to expect.

We had gone through it so many times already,

You took over the narration:

We will walk to school together, you said, holding hands

And go in the building and up the elevator to my classroom

We will say hello to Mrs. Sweeney and look around the classroom

And say hi to the other children

Then we will give each other a kiss and a hug and say have a great day I love you and

THEN I WILL CRY

You said

And you cried

On the sidewalk

And most of the rest of the day

Even though I stayed the whole time.

Soaking shuddering sobs.

You cried every day that month

Even though I was the last mommy still in the classroom,

you cried

One day on the way to school

While I was again telling you what to expect

And emphasizing that I would come back right after lunch

I said, I always come back.

I know that, Mommy, you said, but

sometimes it’s hard to be a nursery school kid.

The next first day was easier, and each after that, easier still

Your shiny face, ready,

mocking me for wanting to snap another picture

Rolling your eyes even before the year your head reached my chin

Posing each first day with your big brother, looking up at him

Until he went to college and the first days were just you, here

You didn’t even care

that he was gone, you lied. He’s basically demoted to cousin.

It’s his fault, you explained, dry-eyed now.

He’s the one who abandoned the family, you said.

Not you.

You were still here.

Taking the subway with me for your first first day of high school

You said you were not sure

if you’d ever feel comfortable taking it alone

That huge building loomed

We walked toward it together but

You walked in alone.

No tears now

Or only mine, on my lonely way home

Maybe you, too, had some secret tears

But no wailing on the sidewalk anymore

Sometimes it’s hard to be a high school student, you didn’t say

It’s chaos, you said, though, and: I have made a terrible mistake, to go there

It is Bedlam, you said the second day. I kind of love it.

By the second week, I took the subway only partway with you.

By the third, you went with your new friends.

A kid among kids

Sturdy on your long legs

Laughing at inside jokes

Coming home after dark

I can feel you leaving already, even though you still

Always come back

For now

And I remember the summer I tried so hard to teach you to ride a bicycle

You were still little and soft but

You had such excellent balance, such speed and grace

Just try, I asked.

You don’t get it, you said patiently

If I learn to ride, you will let go

You say you’ll keep holding on but you’ll let go

And then I’ll ride away from you

Yes, I said. You will.

But I’ll get my bike, and I’ll ride with you,

And we’ll have so much fun

I promised

You shook your head and said

Yeah but then I’ll ride away from you.

Sometimes it’s hard to be a mom

Soon it will be your last first day

Not really

You will have so many first days

So many beginnings we can’t even imagine yet

But I know what to expect, too:

Soon it will be the last first day of school where you wake up here,

Where I sit beside you for a stolen second before I wake you

Before I touch your sweet sweaty head and say good morning

It’s the first day of school

Not ready

The last first day I’ll make you your breakfast

And take too many pictures of you and tell you truthfully how handsome you look

And reach up to give you a hug and a kiss

And say Have a great day

I love you

AND THEN I WILL CRY

Goodbye baby of mine

I will say

As the door closes behind you

How to Talk with Kids about Terror Attacks

We all wonder how to talk with our kids when upsetting things happen in the news – today’s attacks in Belgium provide only the most current horrifying event.

It can feel daunting, trying to find the right balance between protecting the innocence of children we love – and preparing them to cope in the world. It’s not just about scaffolding them as they grow up to become resilient adults, but how to help them handle what they hear in school tomorrow, where the snippets of scary-sounding information exist outside of any context.

I remember struggling with how to discuss terror I didn’t understand as a New York mom after the attacks of September 11, 2001, when my own two sons were tiny. My first-grader was at school that morning; I ended up throwing on sneakers and sprinting across Central Park to pick him up, along with a friend whose mom was struggling to make her way up from the devastation downtown. What to tell them about what was happening in their city?

My instinct was similar to what experts in Paris suggested last year, after the attacks there: be brief, be honest, be respectful of what your child really wants to know.

Here’s a good piece on that:

http://www.nytimes.com/2015/11/17/opinion/is-it-normal-to-have-two-terrorist-attacks.html?_r=0

Depending on the age of your child, you might want to share a sentence about what has just happened. For a very young child, that could mean just saying today: Some bad news happened far away, in Europe, that I am reading about, because what happens in the world matters to us. For a slightly older child, you might say, There was a terrorist attack today in Belgium… and then wait for their questions.

Often the questions that kids ask first fall into two categories, both of which are tough for parents:

Are we safe?

It’s hard to feel like you can answer this honestly when you feel scared yourself. But the truth is, terrorist attacks, while terrifying, are also very rare. You are extremely unlikely to be the victim of a terrorist attack. It’s good to reassure yourself and your child that while it’s important to be careful (be aware of our surroundings, buckle up, look both ways before crossing the street, keep guns away, and be kind to others including those who are different from ourselves) – we are okay. Our hearts have room to feel sad for others without making it about ourselves.

But here as always, let your child lead. Ask questions. Don’t just rush to reassure. Ask: Are you feeling worried about that? What is feeling scary to you? What could we do to show our support to the people affected? (Empowering children as helpers makes them feel less helpless.) What makes you feel strong and brave?

Another important fact to reinforce is a bit of wisdom from Mr. Rogers: Look for the helpers.

http://www.fredrogers.org/parents/special-challenges/tragic-events.php

 As I told my 6-year-old that September afternoon so many years ago: there were some bad guys who did a terrible thing – maybe a dozen bad guys, maybe even a few dozen bad guys (he had just learned about the concept of dozens). But there were thousands of helpers, running to save people: police officers, fire fighters, ordinary citizens helping in any way we could. And there were hundreds of thousands who were angry, hurt, and united against behavior like this, all across our city, determined to keep us all safe and restore our city. And there were millions more across the world who were saying THIS IS NOT OKAY, sending love and help, support and hope. A few bad guys. Millions and millions of good guys. It’s true. And it helps us all to remember that.

Why did this happen?

How to answer such a profound and complex question?

Simply. As simply as you can.

And at best, turn it back. Seek out your child’s wisdom. Be honest: That is such a big question. I don’t really know. What are your thoughts? Why do people sometimes behave terribly? Why do people sometimes try to hurt other people? You may hear some interesting things about what goes on in your child’s classroom! You may also hear some poetic and moving thoughts about psychology and ethics from your little one.

It can help to write down thoughts together, or make a picture, or even to talk about those who keep us safe and how we can thank them. A plate of cookies for the local fire station; a drawing for a teacher, librarian, or administrator who makes school a safe place; a lemonade stand to raise funds for a meaningful charity – all can help a child feel able to put some good out into the world and shift the narrative from terror to empowerment.

(And do write down your child’s thoughts. It alleviates anxiety to put inchoate feelings into concrete words. But also, it’ll be very sweet to have a record of your little one’s precocious wisdom. Trust me. Laminate that page. Take a photo of your kid holding it proudly.)

Try to keep the TV news shut off when your kids are home and awake. Images can sear themselves into even adult minds, and kids don’t have the experience to put the pictures into perspective. In 2001, many children believed that hundreds of planes kept flying into thousands of buildings all week, not realizing that news footage can be played on a repeating loop.

Most importantly: as always, stay present with your child. There isn’t one right thing to say, and there are really no strict age guidelines for when to say what. When you do give information and reassurance, be honest and be brief. Listen more. Ask more. Make eye contact. Tell less. Hug more.

It is terribly difficult to accept that our kids won’t always feel jolly and happy and safe. But we wouldn’t really want them to grow up to be imbecilic self-satisfied oblivious jerks – so they need to learn to cope with some of the sad, scared, angry, confused feelings, too. It’s hard. Take a deep breath. You can do it.

Communicate — as always — respect for your child’s ideas and concerns, joined together with kindness, courage, confidence, and love.

Love and all my best to you and yours,

Rachel Vail

59 minutes ago

119 6

I’m not lying.

Look, I realized I was wearing my slippers one day in the supermarket, toward the end of writing the first draft of UNFRIENDED — so I get it, if that’s what happened, Blake Lively.

Luckily she remembered undergarments, and probably shoes. It could always be worse, my friends.

WASHINGTON, DC – MARCH 10: Actors Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively arrive for the State Dinner in honor of Prime Minister Trudeau and Mrs. Sophie Trudeau of Canada at the White House March 10, 2016 in Washington, DC. (Photo by Ron Sachs-Pool/Getty Images)

Plus she completely rocks that bathrobe so fair play to her.

It is almost my half birthday.

I know that’s not a widely celebrated holiday among adults but in case any of you want to get me half a cake… you still have a few days.

Here is a selfie, immediately after hitting send:

Leave it all on the field, football coaches say.

Leave it all on the page, writers should say.

One time at this stage I slammed my face with a bathroom stall door. Not on purpose. I just lost track of where my head was at the time. It was a weird conversation, back at the restaurant table with my eye swelling and purpling. “I just turned in my book” would make sense as a reason to have slammed your head in a door to SO FEW people, none of whom were at that dinner.

I’m going for a walk out in the air now. Wish me (and the people out there with me) luck today. Good to remember there is outside, and non-imaginary people, and stuff happening that I don’t have to/get to revise.

HAPPY MLK DAY!

Some days (like today) I finish writing the scene I’m down deep in and

I look out the windows and

it’s full-on dark out, and rightly so because

I am as used up as the day

I’m definitely deeply worried about global warming

and

I recognize this weather is way more normal for Jan in NYC than what we’ve had lately

(poor Santa was melting Xmas Eve)

But oh man it’s so cold today my toes and mood are blue.

Family!

Friends!

Parties all day & night!

Holiday spirit!

Everything is awesome!

Hang on I just have to do one thing be right back

#introvertproblems

#tortwisdom