Part 3: Wait, Annabelle Got a Book Deal?
I have a manuscript, now what? And: Bonita Springs tastes better than ever.
Welcome back to WAGaBoD?, where I take you deep down the rabbit hole of “The Mango Tree” and how this book came to fruition.
In Parts 1 and 2 of this series, I covered the ins and outs of my decision to write a book and the processes (both clever and unhinged) that got me to a bloated 110,000 word manuscript.
Now what?
In late 2020, that was my question. The answer: Revise like your life and the balance of your personhood depends on it. Revise and revise … then revise, followed by more revision, some reVISION, some REvision, a snack or 12, and then revisions till the end of time/I couldn’t bear to look at this thing for one second more.
Revision isn’t merely about correcting grammar and tightening paragraphs. At its best, revision is about listening and following, seeing where the story needs to go and where it does not. Viewing each sentence from the new perspective of today’s self, then tomorrow’s self, then next week’s self, but also connecting those current selves to the selves of the story, be they the real selves of memoir or the imagined selves of fiction.
When those selves align, when they agree, when they can at least get along and understand each other, then — then you can maybe consider an end to this set of revisions. I say “this set” because there will be more sets. There will always be more sets. Until one day a proof reader rips the pages from your trembling hands and sends them off to press (that day is coming soon for me, and I am both terrified and thrilled).
The inarguable master of revisions is Kiese Laymon. His brilliant memoir “Heavy” made me want to throw away anything I’d ever written and give up. Also, it made me want to revise. Because our lives depend on it.
As The New York Times wrote of Laymon in 2021, “for him, revision is … a moral, even a spiritual, act — a crucial part of becoming a loving and responsible human being. He is the first to admit that he is a work in progress, that each period of his life is a draft that can be improved. In a way, Laymon thinks of his entire life as an act of revision. And he nurtures a radical hope that America can change for the better, too.”
If you are unfamiliar with Laymon, this is one of my favorite essays. Period. As is this one. And this one.
Laymon’s openheartedness to writing and, perhaps more importantly, revision makes the process of revision feel less laborious and more like an opportunity to sit with your work as you would a beloved album. But you don’t simply get to hear it, you get to tweak it, fuss with it, massage it, love on it. You get to make it better. Realer. Honester. Funner.
Embrace that opportunity.
For folks with the time/budget/ability, I’ve heard writing residencies, such as those offered by Hedgebrook, Tin House, The Studios of Key West and so many more can be invaluable tools when it comes to revision and writing. Such spaces give you time and freedom. They center the work, so you can, too. I was not and am not in a place where I can take two weeks or a month off from life and family, but I envy/admire those who can.
If you are in such a space, one of the best people to follow is the inimitable Hannah Bae. Not only is she a spectacular writer and cultural critic, but her Instagram is my go-to source for all things literary, from workshops and residencies to job opportunities and calls for submissions.
I didn’t mean to dedicate an entire newsletter to revisions, but I should have. While I wrote the bulk of “The Mango Tree” in one sleepless summer, I revised and continue to revise the book to this day.
La Eatsa Bonita
Downtown Bonita Springs has always been delicious.
Maria’s and Grandpa’s Pizza and Survey Cafe and Buffalo Chips and, mmmm, Tortilleria La Rancherita (!! still a favorite) — I love them all. These are places that put food first. Cleanliness second. Decor and service, maybe 85th/86th. Or thereabouts (excluding Survey).
Downtown Bonita was where I went for brunch and lunch. For tacos on the way home from Naples. For really good wings on the rare occasions I craved really good wings.
On a recent trip to the area, I barely recognized it. This neighborhood, once known both deliciously and derogatorily as “Burrito Springs,” is gentrifying. It has all the hipster markers of a place where rents will soon be (even more) unaffordable: a cute coffee/wine shop, a fantastical bakery, a marvelous chef-driven restaurant, a Costa Rica-based waffle chain, a craft brewery with black-painted walls and marshmallow IPAs.
I say this as someone lamenting the past, yes, but also as someone who loves all that bougee hipster stuff because ugh I live in America and can’t help myself.
A couple weekends ago, I fell in love even harder.
The night started at Ceremony Brewing, where, alongside cotton-candy sours and a solid pilsner, South Pizza Co. was slinging hand-tossed pies sticky with chili-infused honey. Ceremony’s vibe is dark yet welcoming. If beer’s not your thing, its refrigerated cases are packed with refreshing seltzers and canned wines. There are even more interesting wines on the shelves next to those cases. I just wish a few could be refrigerated for drinking onsite.
Head north on Old 41 for a couple blocks, past the new coffee/wine place and the old Heaven Shakes, and you’ll get to Chartreuse Craft Cocktail Lounge. You’ll need to leave someone from your party at Chartreuse to wait for seats. You’ll then take as many folks as possible around the corner to El Gran Taco Loco, an open-air tacos and aguas frescas joint that straddles the crowds of old Bonita and new Bonita deliciously.
El Gran Taco Loco offers a simple menu of tacos, tortas and alambras filled with asada, pollo, lengua, tripa — but its quesadillas (so buttery, so crisp) are hard to beat. As is its unabashedly spicy, freshly shaved al pastor. Take your El Gran goodies back to Chartreuse (they allow this, though they may not outright encourage it), and pair them with some of the most interesting drinks I’ve ever had the pleasure of sipping.
Forgot home, there is no place like Chartreuse.
This is a bar dedicated wholly to the art of the cocktail. Your drink could be shaken or flambeed, infused with vanilla and cava, with fresh mango and ginger, or served Cuban-pastry style with a base of rum-soaked guava and a topping of whipped cream-cheese foam (yes, yes, yeeeesssssss).
Chartreuse is where you should start your night and where you might as well end it. It’s where you hail an Uber and eat the cost because everything goes down a little too easy. It’s where you wonder if you’re really in Bonita Springs? If you’re really in Southwest Florida? If you can grab one more bite from El Gran before the Uber arrives, because damn that was good. And while this neighborhood is rapidly changing, a $2 taco can never be defeated.
Thanks for your reassuring insights on revision. I do the nth revision, let it sit, then go back only to find my writing has changed, and I'm not satisfied with what I'd thought was stellar. Not sure "done" is ever possible, but maybe that's ok. Thanks for the great links in this post, too.
My god I’ve been wanting to visit El Gran Taco Loco since you posted about it.