Labor Day Weekend: a writer’s retreat

In order to write the book you want to write, in the end you have to become the person you need to become to write that book.
– Junot Diaz

Kayaking with dolphins in Morro Bay, Labor Day Weekend, September 2012.

Kayaking with dolphins in Morro Bay, Labor Day Weekend, September 2012.

For many years, I went down to my hometown of Terra Bella for the annual San Esteban Dance and festivities, which was held on Labor Day Weekend. David joined me, and then when the kids were born, going down there became one of our family traditions. San Esteban was the hometown of my father and many of his cousins who came to the United States from the Philippines in the 1920s, and relatives up and down California and even from Hawaii and Illinois would gather in our dusty little town to celebrate being a part of the social club that formed in 1955.

Mixing flaming orange and dusty pink.

Mixing flaming orange and dusty pink.

When my cousin Janet married her husband Tim, 13 years ago in the central coastal town of Cambria, we added another tradition.  David made a gourmet dinner to celebrate their anniversary on the Saturday evening of the long weekend when we came into town and stayed with them. We had been doing this for many years until last year, the first year after my mother’s passing away, when we decided to meet in Cambria for the long weekend and stay in a hostel. The highlight of that trip was kayaking in Morro Bay and watching a family of dolphins boldly play in the bay, with one breaching right in front of our kayak.

We planned to repeat the trip to Cambria, but we ended up adjusting to having Janet and Tim come visit us in the Bay Area. Family matters made us change course once again. This time, we were going to be staying put at home – something we haven’t done in years. While I was at first dismayed by the break in tradition, I also had a mission to accomplish in the month of September, and now I had an entire three days to make tremendous strides toward my goal.

Mixing pink hues and orange: Gorgeous & Green reclaimed vintage earrings (Berkeley, CA), Lava 9 ring (Berkeley, CA), and Anthropologie clear bangle.

Mixing pink hues and orange: Gorgeous & Green reclaimed vintage earrings (Berkeley, CA), Lava 9 ring (Berkeley, CA), and Anthropologie clear bangle.

I wanted to revise my novel one last time over the summer but never got around to it. Work is starting to heat up this fall and I’ll be traveling again for business. But I’m determined to make good on finally finishing my novel this year. My college professor from Davis read my manuscript earlier this year and while he found much to admire, his main criticism was in the novel’s pacing. I wasn’t quite sure what he meant until I dove headlong into the manuscript. After spending the last couple of days in an intense writer’s retreat, I understand what he means and I am fixing the problem in earnest.

I must have spent 12 hours revising one chapter on Saturday, but I did so in a state of rapture and with a singular focus on technical precision. Wearing sweats, not showering all day, not knowing what the rest of the house looked like, not knowing what David and the kids were doing or not doing, and not caring, I was fully living in the world of my characters. I was refining their voices and making clearer the landscape in which they roamed. I was exquisitely enraptured. This is what it’s like to be a full-time writer–if only for the Labor Day Weekend.

Adding a vintage embroidered purse from L' Armoire (Berkeley, CA), and Mea Shadow perforated wedges.

Adding a vintage embroidered purse from L’ Armoire (Albany, CA), and Mea Shadow perforated wedges.

I am almost half-way through the last revision. When I sent out the 600-plus-page manuscript to literary agents back in 2005 and received all rejections, I bemoaned in particular one rejection in which the agent had excitedly requested the entire manuscript after the query only to say it basically didn’t fulfill her expectations. I had failed, you see. The story itself was compelling, but I did not execute on telling the story in an equally compelling way. That’s when I shut down for four years and didn’t write.

Definitely warm enough for shorts this Labor Day Weekend. Mixing lace and bold African patterns.

Definitely warm enough for shorts this Labor Day Weekend. Mixing lace and bold African patterns.

When I look back at the manuscript I sent out eight years, I am heartened because I didn’t execute then but I know I am doing so now. I am a better writer, with a clear perspective, and much-needed maturity. There is palpable power in that knowledge, in revising and replacing inadequate words, sentences, scenes with the right word, the concise sentence, the heartfelt scene, the right touch in all the right places. When I finish this final revision, I know that I can send the manuscript out into the world again with renewed faith and confidence. I’m nailing it.

I’m grateful for this Labor Day Weekend when I can call myself a writer again. Three days, a writer’s retreat (with a Friday Night girls’ night to watch a depressing French film with a good friend who happens to be French and an Oakland A’s baseball game thrown in on Monday) – is there anything more a writer can ask for? You can always ask for more full days for writing, but for now, I am grateful, I am satiated. One more day left.

Bold accessories on navy lace: Horn cuff from Kenya, a present from my sister Heidi; Sundance rings; In God We Trust banded ring (NYC); and reclaimed vintage matchbox and rosary necklace by Ren Lux Revival (Uncommon Objects, Austin).

Bold accessories on navy lace: Horn cuff from Kenya, a present from my sister Heidi; Sundance rings; In God We Trust banded ring (NYC); and reclaimed vintage matchbox and rosary necklace by Ren Lux Revival (Uncommon Objects, Austin).

Chicago: Wrigley Field tour, rain delay, and a Cubs win

Hello again, everybody. It’s a bee-yoo-tiful day for baseball.
– Harry Caray, American baseball broadcaster

The iconic red sign.

The iconic red sign.

We celebrated Jacob’s 13th birthday last Friday by taking the Wrigley Field Tour in the morning, enduring a three-hour rain delay, and watching the Chicago Cubs beat the Houston Astros, 3-1 – all runs scored by solo shots. All told, we were there almost 11 hours, much to the chagrin of our 10-year-old daughter who claims that she hates baseball (clearly not her mother’s daughter).

The hand-turned scoreboard doesn't include all the teams in order to retain its original form.

The hand-turned scoreboard doesn’t include all the teams in order to retain its original form.

After touring Fenway Park in Boston three summers ago, we definitely had to tour Wrigley Field, which is the second-oldest ballpark next to Fenway in all of Major League Baseball (MLB) and oldest National League ballpark. Wrigley Field was once a seminary, but when the train ran past it and it was no longer a quiet place to meditate, Charles Weeghman bought it, named the park after himself, and was home to the Chicago Whales as part of the Chicago Federal League. Weeghman Park held its first game in April 1914. The financially troubled league folded the following year, but Weeghman purchased the Cubs and moved the National League team to the 14,000-seat park to play its first game in April 1916. The Wrigley family purchased the team from Weeghman in 1920 and in 1926 it was renamed Wrigley Field after owner William Wrigley Jr., who was a chewing gum magnate. (Side story: Wrigley sold laundry detergent and other cleaning products and attached chewing gum on the bottles as a perk; when people started buying his products just for the chewing gum, he ditched the products and stuck to selling chewing gum. Smart businessman!)

Enjoying Astros infield practice.

Enjoying Astros infield practice.

In 1937, the bleachers and original, hand-turned scoreboard were constructed when the outfield was renovated to accommodate more seating. The park had no fence in the early days; Cubs fans held a rope that they lowered when the Cubs were up at bat and held it up higher and farther back when the opposing team came to the plate. MLB banned that practice, and the Cubs built a wooden fence, with ivy – which is original to this day – planted in three days in 1937. If a baseball lands in the ivy, the outfielder holds up his hands and the ball is a ground-rule double. If the outfielder decides to go after the ball in the ivy, the ball is live and he’d better know where that ball is. It’s not unusual for two balls to pop out of the ivy – as many balls are hit there during batting practice – at which time the ball is live. When the wind blows across the ivy wall, the leaves change color as they ripple in the wind; it’s a poetic and beautiful moment.

Wrigley rooftop seats across the park before game time.

Wrigley rooftop seats across the park before game time.

Because Wrigley Field is smack dab in a residential area, games were played during the day. The neighborhood opposed night games because of fear of mayhem at night but agreed to have lights installed in 1988 when the Cubs threatened to leave Wrigley Field. MLB would not allow the Cubs to play in their own park for post-season games because night games commanded more television telecast revenue. However, only 30 out of the 80 home games are played in the evenings, which was a compromise to residents. People used to watch the games from the rooftops on the outfield side of the park until the Cubs and MLB complained, citing safety reasons, but, of course, they also weren’t able to charge admission for those viewers. Local bar owners worked with the building owners to reinforce the buildings to support bleachers, which incited further anger from the Cubs because they still weren’t getting ticket receipts from the fans in those bleachers, which look quite nice from afar. After the Cubs installed opaque strips to the outer nets to obscure viewing, the bar and building owners came to an agreement with the Cubs, which allowed the team to receive a percentage of the rooftop bleacher ticket revenues.

Filling up with fans.

Filling up with fans and a view of the iconic ivy walls.

Posing with Hall-of-Famer Ernie Banks, who dubbed Wrigley Field "the Friendly Confines."

Posing with Hall-of-Famer Ernie Banks, who dubbed Wrigley Field “the Friendly Confines.”

Wrigley kept the team in the family for more than six decades but the latest heir sold it to the Chicago Tribune for $21 million in 1981, which turned around and sold the team and the field to the Ricketts family, whose father began Ameritrade, for $900 million in 2009. Our tour guide put the cost of owning a Major League baseball team in perspective: Second baseman Ryne Sandberg’s contract in the 1980s was approximately $24 million – more than what the Wrigley family sold the team for just years earlier. The latest dispute with the Cubs owner and neighbors is over erecting a Jumbotron in left field, which would obstruct the view and erase the old-time feel of the park, which currently has approximately 41,000 seats. At first blush, you don’t get an immediate sense – like you do at Fenway – that the park is old, but the exposed steel structure and the columns, which were constructed in 1927 to uphold the upper decks and as a result obstruct the view of some seats, and the original manually operated scoreboard, ivy wall, and minimal electronic signage retain the charm of an old ballpark.

Wind and rain descend delaying the game for three hours.

Wind and rain descend, delaying the game for three hours.

Rain delay, then let’s play ball
I’ve never experienced a rain delay of a ballgame, having gone to many Oakland A’s and SF Giants games for years. Amazingly, after a quick nap, the time didn’t drag, even for Isabella. We spent the tour panting in the heat and humidity, and then donned our sweaters and jackets when we got to our seats after watching the Astros infield practice and the temps dipped and the wind whipped. Thankfully, we were under the overhang in Section 209 in left field. We observed the 30-man crew roll out the tarp, listened to the organist play song after song, people watched, and then cheered along with the rest of the approximately 33,000 people in attendance as the crew came out, peeled away the tarp, and raked and chalked the infield.

A little rain doesn't stop the fans from waiting it out.

A little rain doesn’t stop the fans from waiting for the first pitch – three hours later.

Play ball!

Play ball!

The Cubs lost 101 games last year, but they were still 10th in the majors in home attendance. This year they are 15 games out of first place in the National League Central division, tied with the Milwaukee Brewers for cellar honors, and their average home attendance is 11th in the majors. Go figure, but good for them. Too bad the Oakland A’s fans aren’t coming out to support their fabulous team. As fate would have it, the Cubs hosted the Houston Astros, who are also in the cellar of the American League Western division. Despite both pitchers having ERAs close to 5, it was a pitchers’ dual. We witnessed a ball lost in the ivy for a ground-rule double, and all four runs were scored by solo home runs. The food fare was minimal, I’m assuming in keeping with the old-time feel. Because of the rain delay, we ended up eating hot dogs for both lunch and dinner!

Beautiful Lakeview district with its turn-of-the-century triplexes.

Beautiful Lakeview district with its turn-of-the-century triplexes.

Lakeview district and Julius Meinl
Afterwards, we met up with my friend, Maria Diecidue, whom I wrote a profile about her volunteer work in India. Maria lives three blocks from Wrigley Field. Although the neighborhood is also known as Wrigleyville, the district is called Lakeview. It’s a beautiful area that has a Brooklyn vibe to it – unique shops, lots of restaurants and bars, neighborhood feel to every corner, and wonderful architecture from the turn of the century. Many triplexes have been turned into single-family homes, but most, if not all, still retain their architectural integrity.

A taste of Vienna: Tea with chocolate mousse cake and carrot cake.

A taste of Vienna: Tea with chocolate mousse cake and carrot cake.

Maria took us to Julius Meinl (3601 North Southport Avenue, 773.883.1862), a Viennese-style coffee and pastry shop, a few blocks away. We were serenaded by a violin and bass duet. I had ginger tea with my carrot cake, while David enjoyed a mousse-like chocolate cake. It was the perfect way to erase our hot dog fest. We had a nice if short visit with Maria, which culminated in a quick tour of Lakeview. So, I have found yet another place I wouldn’t mind living. I will have to check out Chicago in January and stay for a while….

A violin and bass duet at Julius Meinl.

A violin and bass duet at Julius Meinl.

What youth baseball has taught me

Every strike brings me closer to the next home run.
– Babe Ruth, Major League Baseball player

Opening day with friend and teammate Isaac, Pinto Seals, March 2008.

Opening day with friend and teammate Isaac, Pinto Seals, March 2008.

When my son Jacob began playing tee ball in first grade, I never attended a single game that season. Don’t get me wrong. I was a long-time baseball fan since before high school – this dates me, but my favorite player was Carlton Fisk of the Boston Red Sox in the 1970s – and I have been a San Francisco Giants fan since moving to the Bay Area in 1990. But I wasn’t ready to join the ranks of parents who spent their weekends at their children’s sporting events. I didn’t want to give up my weekends. Fast forward two years. In third grade, he showed skills and a love for the game, which reawakened my love for the game. Fast forward four more years, after David has been coaching Jacob’s teams and managed one of the league division’s summer all-star teams for two years. David now manages Jacob’s travel team, the Hornets, who play in tournaments every other weekend.

Jacob at the plate, Pinto Seals, spring 2009.

Jacob at the plate, Pinto Seals, spring 2009.

Baseball is life
They say baseball is life, and if you love the game you understand why. Team sports teach kids how to work together towards a goal, instead of as individuals. Every player on the field has a role in every play; the moment the pitcher is in the wind-up, the other eight players are moving (or should be moving) in anticipation of the ball coming to them. I’ve heard David tell all the kids on the field, “The ball’s coming to you!” (Years earlier, David once told Jacob that when he was playing the outfield as a kid, he always wanted the ball to be hit to him. That was fire in the belly.) If the ball isn’t hit to them, they should be moving, either to where the ball is or to the next play, covering the bases or the immediate areas to back up their teammates. You should always have your teammate’s back.

Little League Day with the Oakland A's: Geo Gonzalez signs baseballs for Jacob and his buddy and teammate Nic after participating in the pre-game Chalk Talk on the field.

Little League Day with the Oakland A’s, April 2010: Geo Gonzalez signs baseballs for Jacob and his buddy and teammate Nic after their participation in the pre-game Chalk Talk on the field.

Moms in the stands
Like most moms, I wanted my son to do his best and to suck it up when he made an error, but, of course, he wasn’t supposed to make any errors. During summer ball after third grade, Jacob had meltdowns when he made an error. He took himself out of the game by stomping around in the outfield or defiantly putting his arms to the side in right field, basically giving up while his team was in play. I was aghast – horrified – and angry. David had long talks with him about not letting his team down. It was one thing to beat yourself up and quit, but you can’t shortchange your team. (We used to call him the master of self-flagellation, a trait no doubt he had gotten from me but had taken to new heights.)

He still gets upset when he’s pitching and not getting the support defensively or when he’s still thinking about his called-strike-three at bat to end the inning before. I can see it in his body language – the slumped shoulders, the hard blinking to keep the tears at bay – but he isn’t melting down to the point of being useless to his teammates. That comes from slow-growth maturity. And as painful as it was and still is for me, his mom, to watch from the stands, I realize that he is learning on a stage – the baseball field, in front of coaches, teammates, and families – which is something that I, as a painfully shy child, could not imagine.

Hornets, 2nd place at San Anselmo, July 2011.

Hornets, 2nd place at San Anselmo, July 2011.

Embracing risk
When he moved up from the Pinto level (grassy infield and squishy ball) to the Mustang level (dirt infield and hard ball), he worked himself out of the position of shortstop, which he had played with such fierceness and command the year before. He confessed to his fear of the ball, which greatly disappointed me. I kept telling him he just needed to overcome his fear. Although he has embraced centerfield, overcoming fear is still an important life lesson.

I never realized that I was risk-averse, too, when it came to youth baseball. If Jacob pitched two great innings in a game, I wanted him to come out after that inning, not only to preserve an unblemished pitching effort but also to have him leave the mound with more confidence. If the team was winning or in a tight game in the latter innings, some of us moms in the stands would hold our breath, wondering if our son was going to pitch, and then breathe a sigh of relief when our son didn’t trot to the mound and pick up the ball.

Hornets, 2nd place, San Anselmo, July 2012.

Hornets, 2nd place, San Anselmo, July 2012.

Last year, in one of the tournament games he pitched a great two innings and in the process threw very few pitches. His team was ahead and it was the other team’s last chance to overcome the Hornets. Jacob overthrew the ball, trying to strike out the side in the bottom of the sixth. He walked batters and gave up hits. Soon the lead shifted and the other team won. Jacob was devastated. I was devastated, too. But the other emotion that coursed through me was anger. How could David let him pitch that third inning, when two is the modus operandi? Why push his limit? Why, to be more pointed, ruin the great two innings he had just pitched? David’s response: He pitched well those two innings and threw 19 pitches total, so they put him out there again, expecting the same stellar results. He has to learn how to handle the pressure, David concluded. I didn’t agree with the reasoning. The season ended with me still believing a new pitcher should have been inserted.

After three games on a Saturday in Fremont, we're still standing.

After three games on a Saturday in Fremont, we’re still standing, May 2013.

A New season
In a recent tournament in Sunnyale, one of our Hornets moms, Yoko, told me she accepts that we can’t control many things in life and has developed a Zen mentality for everything, including youth baseball. She sings the Kelly Clarkson song, “What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger,” to her son and daughter. In that same tournament, in their first game, Jacob had pitched well in his first inning, and although he pitched well his second inning, the opposing team tied the game. I didn’t expect to see him come out for the “sudden death” extra inning, but he was sent back to the mound for a third inning because he had a low pitch count and he had pitched well overall.

Ready for a Hornets game!

Ready for a Hornets game!

In sudden death, the opposing team gets to determine where in their line-up they want to start their inning, with runners already at first and second. Jacob overthrew a pitch or two before collecting himself to record the first two outs. Then he gave up the game-winning single. Jacob walked off the mound, devastated and crying. I was disappointed for him. But this time around, I was surprisingly calm. I finally understand – in a way that he doesn’t yet – that adversity and defeat build character, even as it hurts mightily now, even as it hurts us parents to see our children this way. I bit my lip and watched David talk to him, as Jacob’s shoulders heaved up and down. David later told me he was telling Jacob that he noticed him overthrowing, then taking a deep breath and composing himself for the next pitch. He told Jacob that his response on the mound was a huge step – regardless of the outcome – because last year he couldn’t regain his composure. That was David’s takeaway. My takeaway was that it’s not about preserving the perfect, it’s about becoming a stronger player and a stronger person. And a wiser mom.