Blog Hop: My Writing Process

This is me taking part in a “blog hop.”  

Here’s how it works: writers/bloggers answer the same four questions about the process of writing, then we invite more bloggers to participate. By the end of the year, the goal is to have as many bloggers as possible riffing on this same theme.

The whole #MyWritingProcess endeavor seems like one part chain letter, one part self interview, one part shameless self-promotion and one part supporting other writers. I’m taking part because my friend and awesome writer Shelby Settles Harper tapped me. An alum of the Johns Hopkins University master’s in writing program, where I’m studying, Shelby is an all-around great writer and literary thinker who blogs at “Worth the Writing.”

So, on to the questions...

Q: What am I working on?

Well, like always, I’m working on a whole lot of things at once. I’ve been putting the finishing touches on my second novel Fremdheim for about 18 months now. By the end of summer, I hope to have it ready to go as I search for a new agent and publisher.

I just finished a short story based on my first trip to New Orleans. While at the W Hotel lobby, I met a gravedigger, who took me around to some remote and derelict cemeteries. The story has been simmering for years, but I finally got it down on paper for my “Identity in Literature” class at Johns Hopkins. Hopefully, someone will find the morbid chaos of this story interesting and agree to publish it.

I’ll soon be traveling in South Africa for the first time. I’ll be surfing some cold, sketchy breaks, roaming around in nature, camping out in the wilderness, tasting some wines. So, considering this will be the most epic trip of my 30 years, I plan on writing a lot about it. I have long been a fan of South African wine, and I look forward to my tastings and tours with some great producers. Surely, I will return with many a blog post to work on. I also plan on writing a kind of surf adventure travel piece I hope to submit to some sports and travel publications.

Q: How does my work differ from others of its genre?

My novel Fremdheim is, like Broken Bones, “fiction,” but it’s based on my experience of a specific time and place. As a skeptic son of evangelical missionaries, I had a lot to unpack when my parents decided to leave our Jersey Shore home to Kyiv, Ukraine to tell the people there about Jesus. I ended up at a missionary kid boarding school in Germany’s Black Forest, and Fremdheim is based on that experience.

It wasn’t the high point of my life, but I wouldn’t trade those days for anything. So I have a love-acceptance relationship with the past. I’m not bitter or angry, I’m just reflective. This chaotic past has made me who I am today, so I like to dig into it, explore it, hold it up to the light.

Q: Why do I write what I do?

I’m constantly challenging myself to try bigger and more difficult things. And writing is one of the most challenging things I know. It’s not dangerous, per se, but it’s thrilling.

As far as subject matter, my writing reflects my preference for the rebel, the punk, the outcast, and it stands in opposition to hierarchy, religion and taboo. But, mostly, I love exploring complex characters who operate within dynamic environments. I like writing about those moments when things clash, when people break down, when someone takes a risk and either fails miserably or pulls off something awesome.

Also, in a physical and psychological sense, I write because I feel a constant compulsion to do so. On some level, I write because not writing makes me feel anxious, helpless and downright crazy.

Q: How does your writing process work?

I write most (and I think best) late at night. But each time I sit down at the computer, I approach writing with a different mindset. I like to write in different physical, emotional and mental states, so I can attack a particular piece of writing from different vantage points. Sometimes I get up real early, sip way too much coffee and write for hours before doing anything else. Sometimes I hunker down in my man cave all night, typing away with metal blasting. I also love writing while traveling; it helps me gain new perspectives.

Next up on the blog hop: two friends and awesome writers, Gillian Marchenko and Addie Zierman.  

Gillian Marchenko is a writer and national speaker who lives in Chicago with her husband Sergei and four daughters. Her memoir Sun Shine Down was published in August of 2013. She is currently writing another memoir about depression. Find out more about Gillian and her work at www.gillianmarchenko.com.  

Addie Zierman (@addiezierman) is an author and blogger. She recently published her debut memoir, When We Were On Fire, which was named by Publisher’s Weekly as one of the Best Books of 2013. She lives in Andover, Minnesota with her husband and two sons and blogs at addiezierman.com.

As always, thanks for reading. Cheers!

Wine Reviews: Oregon & California Pinot Noirs

This post first appeared on the daily wine blog Terroirist.

What a solid bunch of wines. These Pinot Noirs from Oregon and California were received as trade samples and tasted blind.

2010 Stoller Pinot Noir Reserve Dundee Hills - Oregon, Willamette Valley, Dundee Hills

SRP: $45

Clear, medium intensity ruby colored. On the nose, cranberries and sour cherries, a note of red hot candies and rhubarb. Medium+ acid, fine-grained tannins, lots of strawberries and cranberries on the palate. I love the white pepper and resin notes and the creamy oak accents. Tasty, tangy, a good one to drink now or hold for several years. (89 points)

2011 Stoller Pinot Noir Estate Grown - Oregon, Willamette Valley, Dundee Hills

SRP: $25

A clear ruby color. Medium intensity on the nose, with red currants, wild raspberries, and I get the sense that I’m smelling a holly tree, with this strong green-herbal and tart berry combination, some caramel too. On the palate, the tannins are light, medium+ acid, with flavors of tart cranberries, strawberries and a bit of pomegranate seed. An interesting mix of pepper, menthol, some creamy oak and dusty soil. A zesty, lower-alcohol (12.7%) Pinot. (88 points)

2010 Hyland Estates Pinot Noir Hyland Vineyard - Oregon, Willamette Valley, McMinnville

SRP: $35

A dark ruby color in the glass. The nose shows violets and smoke over raspberries and strawberries and a strong mushroom note that I really enjoy. Fresh and elegant on the palate, with very fine tannins, crisp acid and fresh strawberries and cherries, a dark plum note as well. That same mushroom note from the nose comes out on the palate, some bay leaf, cracked pepper and light roast coffee. I dig this wine for its unassuming approach, its nuance, and its delicate flavors, but it’s not one to age for very long. (88 points)

2011 Hyland Estates Pinot Noir Coury - Oregon, Willamette Valley, McMinnville

SRP: $60

Light ruby color. Really nice spice tones on the nose (clove, cinnamon, pepper) on top of bright cherries and cranberries. Brisk acid, fine tannins and snappy red fruit makes this a fresh and food-friendly Pinot. I like the tobacco, pepper and earth accents. (A pleasant hint of seaweed?) A lighter, more reserved style, but showing significant complexity. (89 points)

2012 Gainey Pinot Noir - California, Central Coast, Sta. Rita Hills

SRP: $30

Ruby-cherry colored. On the nose, some roses, cool strawberries and raspberries, anise, menthol. On the palate, juicy berry fruit, strawberries and raspberries, like strawberry rhubarb pie, mixed with white pepper, earth and tobacco, Complex, spice-toned, along with cola and tobacco. Bright, balanced and pure, but full of flavor. 13.9% alcohol, aged 11 months in 19% new French oak. A beauty. (91 points)

2012 Rusack Pinot Noir - California, Central Coast, Santa Barbara County

SRP: $30

Ruby-cherry color. Aromas of fig, cranberries, roses, rhubarb and a smoky note. Fresh acid on the palate, with fine tannins, very pretty in its approach. Flavors of cranberries, fresh cherries mix with notes of cola, pepper, rhubarb. Ripe and open, but stays cool and clean, with a pepper and sage-laced finish. (90 points)

2012 Rusack Pinot Noir Reserve - California, Central Coast, Sta. Rita Hills

SRP: $40

Medium black cherry color. Aromas of fresh, chilled strawberries and cherries, along with roses, earth and some mushroom. Bright cherries and plums lead the way on the palate, with some crunchy plum skin notes. Tangy, moderate structure, with secondary flavors of earth, rhubarb and strawberry greens, some nice tobacco and white pepper. Slight coffee and cedar on the finish. Very well balanced and full of interesting flavors. (90 points)

2012 Rusack Pinot Noir Solomon Hills Vineyard - California, Central Coast, Santa Maria Valley

SRP: $45

Dark ruby colored. Wonderful nose, the strawberry and sour cherry fruit smells fresh and inviting, accented by notes of rhubarb, white pepper and a smell that reminds me sweet pickle relish. From the moment the wine hits the palate, to the finish, the wine is graceful and consistent. Solid tannic structure, highly refreshing acid, and waves of cool strawberry and cherry fruit. The notes of white pepper, earth, tobacco and sweet floral and dried fruit potpourri make this complex and exciting. Long, fresh finish with floral and earth nuances. Beautiful stuff, showing well right out of the bottle, but you could bury this for a while as well. (93 points) 

Charismatic Chenin Blancs From Francois Chidaine

In January, I spent five days tasting my way through the Languedoc-Roussillon region of Southern France. The trip was organized and sponsored by SudVinBio, an association of organic Languedoc-Roussillon winemakers, and centered around the Millésime Bio Fair in Montpellier, a convention of more than 700 organic winemakers from 12 countries.

During the fair, I mingled through the tasting tables, stopping to taste and talk with winemakers. High on my list of must-see producers was Francois Chidaine, who has long been one of my favorite artists of the Chenin Blanc grape. These Loire Valley wines have always astounded me with their depth, purity and minerality. From bone dry to sweet, they are some of the best examples of Chenin Blanc I’ve come across.

Here are my notes on Francois’ wines…

N.V. François Chidaine Montlouis-sur-Loire Méthode Traditionelle Brut - France, Loire Valley, Touraine, Montlouis-sur-Loire
White flowers, lemon zest and chammomile tea on the nose. Crisp and mineral-driven on the palate, with fine bubbles, nectarine and melon rind flavors. Love the oceanic and mineral stream aspects. (88 points)

2012 François Chidaine Vouvray Sec Les Argiles - France, Loire Valley, Touraine, Vouvray
Aromas of white peach and nectarine, mixed with crushed stones and slate. Crisp and pure on the palate, with melon and lime peel. So much mineral and sea shell flavors. Sexy, alive, sure to be long-lived. (89 points)

2011 François Chidaine Montlouis-sur-Loire Les Bournais - France, Loire Valley, Touraine, Montlouis-sur-Loire
I love this wine, and 2011 is another solid example. Floral, peach, nectarine, minerals on the nose. Peach and cantaloupe all over the palate, but also really tangy. Creamy, slightly nutty, with a bit more honey than the Franc de Pied bottling. Great length on the palate, this will open up a lot over the next few years, I’m guessing. (90 points)

2011 François Chidaine Montlouis-sur-Loire Franc de Pied Les Bournais - France, Loire Valley, Touraine, Montlouis-sur-Loire
Honey, floral, nectarine, apricot and minerals on the nose. Richly textured, honeyed on the palate with nervy acid and lots of limestone and rocks. Lemon peel and peach flavors, mix with limestone and lychee nut. Long and full yet sleek. For me, this might be just a hair above the regular Les Bournais, possibly a little more long-lived, but is it worth the extra money? (90 points)

2011 François Chidaine Montlouis-sur-Loire Clos Habert - France, Loire Valley, Touraine, Montlouis-sur-Loire
Peaches, honey, mixed nuts and crushed rocks on the nose. The palate is rich, but buttressed by clean acid. So full and floral, with complex apricot, peach nectar, nuts and herbal tea. Long finish with dried white flowers and clay soil. I’d like to try this wine with five years on it. (90 points)

2010 François Chidaine Montlouis-sur-Loire Les Tuffeaux - France, Loire Valley, Touraine, Montlouis-sur-Loire
Aromas of apricots, honey, yellow flowers and mountain streams. Richly textured, great freshness. Honeydew, nectarine and sweet peaches, along with white tea, flowers and crushed nutshells. Sweet but balanced, a bit low on the mineral content but still incredibly delicious. (91 points)

2010 François Chidaine Montlouis-sur-Loire Moelleux - France, Loire Valley, Touraine, Montlouis-sur-Loire
Deep aromatic display of honey, apricots and flowers. Rich and lush, but also balanced and pure, and not in the slightest bit cloying. Love the apricot, nectarine and pineapple fruit, mixed with cinnamon, lanolin oily undertones. Not a ton of minerality, but it’s still amazing. One for the cellar for sure. (92 points)

2010 François Chidaine Vouvray Moelleux - France, Loire Valley, Touraine, Vouvray
Complex aromas of honeycomb, apricot, nectarine and chalk. Juicy and rich on the palate with nervy acid. Flavors of honey-glazed pears, caramel, pineapple and lychee. Not too rich because of an underlying sense of chalk and minerals. Long and complex with a long life ahead. (92 points)

Wurzelwerk: Riesling and the Quest to Understand Terroir

Photo: Wurzelwerk. From left to right: Maximilian von Kunow,
Johannes Hasselbach, Stef Jurtschitsch, Alwin Jurtschitsch.

This post first appeared on the daily wine blog Terroirist.

Winemakers and good friends Johannes, Max, Alwin and Stefanie spent the 2012 holidays together, sharing merriment and each other’s wines. As Riesling bottles emptied and night settled in, the conversation turned to terroir. What does a glass of Riesling say about its vineyard site? Is terroir just a combination of the vineyard’s soil, climate and topography? How much does the winemaker affect a wine’s sense of place?

By the end of the night, they’d devised a plan to try to answer some of these questions. The motto: “Give me your juice; I’ll give you mine.” They called it Wurzelwerk, or root work.

The cast:

·      Johannes Hasselbach, Weingut Gunderloch (Rheinhessen, Germany)

·      Maximilian von Kunow, Weingut von Hövel (Saar, Germany)

·      Alwin & Stefanie Jurtschitsch, Weingut Jurtschitsch (Kamptal, Austria)

The concept: Each winemaker trades some of their 2012 harvest with the others. Each winemaker then crafts three different wines, one from his own estate fruit and one from the fruit of the other two.

The result: 3 winemakers x 3 Rieslings = 9 wines. Their final output totaled about 400 half-liter bottles of each of the nine Rieslings.

I recently attended a Wurzelwerk tasting at Domaine Wine Storage in Washington, DC, where these three winemakers showed off the results of their experiment. Alwin kicked off the tasting with an explanation of the basic question they were investigating. If soil, aspect, climate, indigenous yeasts and other site-specific factors comprise terroir, then “by rule, it should taste the same,” Alwin said. “In practice, it’s actually quite different.”

After an explanation of the logistical details, we tasted the first three wines side-by-side. The crowd was befuddled. Questions and concern spread through the room. “Why do they taste different?”

Max chuckled. “That’s the question.” Alwin and Johannes refer to Max as the philosopher of the bunch, and it fits considering how energized he gets by these complex little mysteries. “You can read a hundred books about wine,” Max told the crowd. He pointed to his glass. “No book has this.”

In order to make the process as uniform as possible, the winemakers removed as many variables as they could. Johannes, for example, normally uses old oak barrels to ferment his Riesling, but for this project everyone used stainless steel. The grapes were crushed to avoid potential oxidation that could arise from just shipping crates of whole clusters, but the juice was left in contact with the skins. The on the road juice had the same level of skin contact as the home field juice. (For the sake of consistency and clarity, I’m referring to the wines vinified elsewhere as “on the road” wines, and those wines vinified on their own turf as “home field” wines.) The wines were fermented using only ambient yeasts from the vineyard, meaning no additional yeasts were added to the on the road juice.

Another interesting note: the wines took vastly different amounts of time to ferment. Some were completed three months after the harvest, while others didn’t finish fermenting until June of 2013. Yet another mystery.

This is all part of the fun, Johannes said. “We haven’t demystified wine. If anything, we’ve further mystified it.” The winemakers knew they would learn a few things through this project, and, of course, they did. But Johannes was speaking for all of them all when he said, “The whole idea was looking for answers. What we got was more questions.”

My takeaway: I thought each wine tasted best when it was vinified on its home field. The on the road juice still expressed the basic characteristics of its vineyard, but these wines were slightly out of focus, a bit more hesitant, lacking some of the verve and wow factor of the home field wines. Only slightly, though. I thought all of the wines were impressive. But they were different, unpredictable, perplexing. Their similarities were pushed to the side as my attention focused on their nuanced differences.

My notes follow…

“Der Schatz-Berg”

This is Max’s fruit. These three wines come from Von Hövel’s holdings in the blue slate soils of the Scharzhofberg vineyard, located in the Saar region of the larger Mosel Valley. The wines carry the funny name because, under German wine laws, a wine cannot carry a vineyard designate if it is made outside of Germany.

2012 Von Hövel Riesling Wurzelwerk “Der Schatz-Berg” - Germany, Mosel Saar Ruwer
Complex aromas of honey, white flowers, white peaches, orange peel and lots of crushed rocks. Tangy, clean, yet rich on the palate, with flavors of orange peel, lychee nut and limes. The non-fruit flavors are just awesome: saline, slate, clay soil, smashed rocks. Long, pure and beautiful. Showing more clarity and precision than the other wines. (92 points)

2012 Gunderloch Riesling Wurzelwerk “Der Schatz-Berg” - Germany, Mosel Saar Ruwer
Showing a bit less intensity on the nose, with orange peel, white flowers and slate. Ripping acid on the palate, this wine is brisk and salty, more so than the others. Still getting that great orange peel, but some lemon in here too, honeysuckle. Intense minerality on this wine. A bit leaner than the Jurtschisch and ever more when compared to the Von Hövel. (91 points)

2012 Jurtschitsch Riesling Wurzelwerk “Der Schatz-Berg” - Germany, Mosel Saar Ruwer
The aromas are still beautiful, and quite similar to Von Hövel’s, but a smidge less intense. Orange peel, white flowers, crushed rocks. Creamy on the palate, but tangy, with orange peel and lychee nut, but this wine tastes a bit nuttier, showing a bit less mineral and a bit more floral and candied orange peel notes. Still a beautiful wine, but shocking to taste the difference. (91 points)

“Der Rote Berg”

This is Johannes’ fruit. It comes from Gunderloch’s holdings in the red slate Rothenberg vineyard, located in the Rheinhessen town of Nackenheim.

2012 Von Hövel Riesling Wurzelwerk “Der Rote Berg” - Germany, Rheinhessen
Aromas of peach nectar, apricot, bright flowers, limestone, sea salt. Tangy and zesty on the palate, with orange, papaya and apricot flavors. Love the sea salt and mineral aspects. Close to the Gunderloch estate wine, but just a bit less focused. (90 points)

2012 Gunderloch Riesling Wurzelwerk “Der Rote Berg” - Germany, Rheinhessen
Amazing aromas: white peach, apricot, intense floral notes, sea breeze, limestone. So pure and focused on the palate, with flavors of orange, apricot and lychee nut. Crisp, nervy acid, rushing minerals, and notes of spiced tea and mienrals on the finish. More defined and driven than the other wines. Another example of the best wine of the three coming from the home field cellar. (91+ points)

2012 Jurtschitsch Riesling Wurzelwerk “Der Rote Berg” - Germany, Rheinhessen
More peaches and yellow flowers on the nose than the other wines, with richer, honeyed notes. Juicy apricot, lychee and orange on the palate. Zesty, with sea shells and minerals, some limestone, chalk and sea breeze notes. A really impressive wine, but definitely different than the Gunderloch estate wine. (91 points)

“Der Heilige Stein”

This fruit comes from Alwin and his wife Stef, who work together on the wines. The fruit comes from Jurtschitsch’s holdings in the Heiligestein vineyard in the Kamptal region of Austria. The soils are composed of desert sandstone with quartz and high silica content.

2012 Von Hövel Riesling Wurzelwerk “Der Heilige Stein” - Austria, Niederösterreich, Kamptal
Interesting mix of aromas: apricot, clover honey and a musky note. Clean and crisp on the palate with rich apricot, lychee papaya flavors, but tingly acid throughout. Sea salt, clay and honeycomb notes. Complex, balanced, beautiful. (91 points)

2012 Gunderloch Riesling Wurzelwerk “Der Heilige Stein” - Austria, Niederösterreich, Kamptal
Apricot, papaya, sea salt and minerals on the nose. Juicy and plump on the palate but nervy acid keeps it balanced. Papaya, lime juice and apricot flavors mix with minerals, chalk and whipped honey. Long, complex, showing a hint more minerals and elegance than the Von Hövel, at least for my palate. Long, honeyed finish. (91+ points)

2012 Jurtschitsch Riesling Wurzelwerk “Der Heilige Stein” - Austria, Niederösterreich, Kamptal
Focused aromas of white peach, papaya, potpourri, chalk and sea salt. Definitely the most complex aromas of the bunch. Again, on the palate, this home field wine scores big. So pure and direct on the palate, with papaya, lime and apricot. More intense minerality than the other two wines, and this shows complex clover honey, yellow flowers and chalk. Long, sexy finish. A gorgeous Austrian Riesling showing just what the Heiligenstein vineyard can offer. (92 points)

I’ve obsessed over wine for almost a decade now. But despite all the studying, all the blind tasting, all the collecting, all the corked bottles and blog posts, it’s refreshing and liberating to realize, through some sort of Riesling-fueled Socratic epiphany, that I know so very little. Wine will forever by mysterious. “In a hundred years, we will not have all the answers,” Max told the group of tasters.

He’s right. And as we do get the answers, the questions will change, and we’ll need to seek new answers all over again. This never-ending mystery, it befuddles us all, oenologists, growers, winemakers, writers, consumers.  Isn’t that why we love it so?

The Misanthropic Vagabond - On Celine's Novel "Journey to the End of the Night"

Luis-Ferdinand Celine’s 1932 novel “Journey to the End of the Night” is one of the most haunting and intriguing books I’ve ever read. I loved every page of it.

The reader enters Celine’s world with a bang, right in the middle of the explosions and dead bodies of WWI France. But it’s not long until you’re ferried from the French theater to the steamy swamps of colonized Congo. Then we’re off to the streets of New York City, then to the clang of the Detroit factories. It all happens in abrupt and random fashion, as if Celine’s alter ego, Ferdinand, has little to no control over which road he travels.

Ferdinand is the ultimate vagabond. He’s in a constant state of mental distress and emotional detachment, and he’s filled with equal parts cynicism and anxious travel lust. Here’s a quote that sums up the anti-hero narrator’s plight: “This body of ours, this disguise put on by common jumping molecules, is in constant revolt against the abominable farce of having to endure.”

But Ferdinand’s unique personality jumps off the page as he travels around making poetic proclamations about all sorts of things:

“Everything that’s important goes on in the darkness, no doubt about it. We never know anyone’s real inside story.”

“In the kitchen of love, after all, vice is like the pepper in a good sauce; it brings out the flavor, it’s indispensable.”

Ferdinand sucks the marrow out of life, like a proto-Henry Chinaski but with less alcoholic tendencies. He’s also got a streak of that blue collar disdain for the rich, which strikes chords with me: “I hadn’t found out yet that mankind consists of two very different races, the rich and the poor. It took me… and plenty of other people… twenty years and the war to learn to stick to my class and ask the price of things before touching them, let alone setting my heart on them.”

The edition I own (New Directions 2006 paperback) has one of the best afterwords I remember reading, written by William T. Vollman.

It starts like so: “Reader, fuck you!... You think I give a shit whether or not you’ve read this book? Or that Celine’s ghost does? That would be the day!”

Vollman does a better job that I could in describing Celine’s chaotic prose: “Why’s Celine a great writer? Because he pisses on everything… These scene changes become insane, ridiculous. Just when you start to know where you are, Celine pisses you down another rathole, damn it!”

The novel is free of the trappings of plot, rising and falling action and most signs of cause and effect. As a student in a master’s writing program at Johns Hopkins, I can say this book would’ve gotten shredded to pieces in a writing workshop. And perhaps that’s what makes it so refreshing and lively.

I’ve heard “Journery to the End of the Night” described as one of the most nihilistic books ever written, but I don’t believe any creative work can be truly nihilistic. This book’s themes and language may have nihilistic tendencies, but the book itself is creative genius. Any work of art is the result of positive action, which pisses all over nihilism. Ferdinand’s humor and sarcasm also bring some levity to the prose.

I can only imagine what it must’ve felt like to read this novel when it was first published in 1932. Had the world seen such misanthropic, satiric and incisive writing before?

I realize this is a short “review,” but I had to say a few words about this book. I finished it a few months ago and it’s stuck with me since. It’s one of those few novels I know I’ll go back and read again. It’s like nothing I’ve ever read, and it’s no wonder so many writers point back to this novel as an inspiration. 

What was that about nihilism?

“When We Were On Fire” - Talking Evangelical with Addie Zierman

I recently caught up with my old friend Addie Zierman to talk about her new memoir “When We Were on Fire: A Memoir of Consuming Faith, Tangled Love, and Starting Over.” Addie frequently discusses her faith, family and writing on her blog, “How to Talk Evangelical.” If you’re a Christian, it’s a must-read. If you’re one of the lost, Addie’s work is still very interesting and worthy of your contemplation.

Addie Zierman. Credit: Shane Long.

Addie and I agreed to swap books. I’d read hers and she’d read my new novel Broken Bones. Then we’d chat about the experience. On the surface, it seems our books couldn’t be more dissimilar. Hers is a memoir of struggling through the American evangelical subculture, and mine is a novel based on the month I spent stuck in a psychiatric ward for people with eating disorders. But they’re both about personal struggles, alienation, self-discovery, all that good stuff. I figured this exchange could be fun and educational. Mission accomplished.

Addie and I go way back. We crossed paths in our early teens when we both attended an Evangelical Free Church in Deerfield, Illinois. She was a local girl, immersed in all the church activities, and I was the new kid. A Jersey boy, I was frustrated and depressed that my parents had chosen to abandon our beach bum haven for this bland slice of the Midwest. My father had just begun attending Trinity Evangelical Divinity School nearby. They were missionaries, “called” by Christ to spread the gospel. I felt like luggage.

Christianity wasn’t new to me when I met Addie. I was baptized as a baby at St. James Episcopal Church, a small chapel on the Jersey Shore. I have only positive memories of that church and the time I spent there. I remember the intricate stained glass portraits of the saints, the dried sponge feel of the communion wafers, the bitter red wine, Father Ken’s flowing purple robe, the gentle strength of his hand as he placed it on my head and blessed me. 

Perhaps I was too young to develop moral and philosophical qualms with the Episcopal Church, but as my parents transitioned into evangelicalism, and I entered my teens, things began to change. I became uneasy at the church Addie and I attended. I’d be listening to a pastor’s sermon and my stomach would knot up. I’d feel an intense pressure in my chest. I had to get out of there.

The sweeping proclamations about God and Jesus and how we should live inspired not awe or reverence but anxiety. The doctrines and statements of faith sounded random and unreasonable. The more I actually read the Bible, the more it struck me as a mess of bad advice and shady characters. I listened to the pastors speak and I couldn’t help but think: How could they possibly know what they are claiming to know? Many a sermon drove me to the brink of a screaming fit, but for the most part I just bit my tongue, doodled on my church program and longed for the day when I was old enough to leave and never come back. As the firstborn son of new missionaries, however, I didn’t have much of a choice. So I played the part. I stepped warily around the edges of this evangelical pool, waiting. 

Addie, however, was the most enthusiastic young fan of Jesus I’d ever met. And while our feelings for the church didn’t line up, I couldn’t help but feel attracted to her passion and energy. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced. She was as stoked about Jesus as I was about surfing. But, as detailed in her memoir, faith wasn’t easy for Addie either. 

Addie and I parted ways before my junior year of high school, when my parents moved to Ukraine and I attended a missionary boarding school in Germany. After high school, Addie sought out Christian colleges and churches and community groups. I wanted nothing to do with Christian institutions. Addie needed connection with other evangelicals who shared her values. I needed to connect with people who wanted nothing to do with the church. 

Today, I think it’s safe to say that Addie and I would disagree on almost all propositions about the Christian God and church doctrine. But we also have a lot in common. We both enjoy devouring good books. We both admire Jesus’ message of peace and reconciliation. And we both love honest conversation.